Fit For Consumption
In the last vestige of my carved papaya heart,
seeds of yearning discarded,
skin peeled in an effort to make me palatable,
I'll find you.
Burning in the colors somewhere in between
pink and orange, passion and change,
along for the ride.
I'll carry you for miles, up to the mouths of rivers
waiting for just a taste of persuasion to shift courses
or pool in lakes of bathing silver.
Simplicity and beauty are evident today.
Crush me, trust me, leave your glow within me.
I'll be carved and crystallized, dried into strips
of redemption and fit for consumption once more.
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