Melon Juice Tears

sweet grief

the size of a melon

cannot be contained in this body

is overflowing

leaking

seeping

in

through layers of those who,

like me,

knew beauty and did not know

what more to do to make it stay.

this grief flows through me,

pierced water balloon full of warm tears

to lose

what cannot be held

and what may not have ever been.

melon skins

bursting open with juice

it is just too much to hold

a heavy addition to my step

splish, splash

I am wading

in the end of this,

waiting for the return

of that which was preciously anticipated

bird flights in season but buried in silence.

I carry this grief for it to be shaken,

that it's vines and tendrils surrender their juices,

their roots know the day of their own intuitive fading,

that the sweet seeds melt and fall from the soft red flesh,

held contained for too long.

Dear Love,

I am so ready for you to pierce through me

and to reduce me

to exactly who I am

that dwells within you,

unaverted,

unadulterated,

and True.

ripened by you,

eaten by you,

re-awakened by the emptiness and fullness

within which we meet.