email to S, january 8th 2010

today i’m a melon, ripe and brewing
dressed in rind of golden beige

i feel cold, and refrigerated, but sweet on the inside

seeds still inside, rock hard and soft at the same exact time
turning and teething and hopeful and young, innocent like the flesh that digs into my tongue

i feel my entire body condense
in shades of purple and awareness
release, release like cables
and strung along like the cars along them

what’s appreciation anyways? october anniversaries and wintry embraces,

i know who we are deep inside, we’re old enough to know now but not too old to change

pick me, pick me
i’m ripening still

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