Ode To Honeydew
Honeydew melon is decidedly feminine--
Venus, the moon, a ripe pregnant belly
at peace on my kitchen counter
emitting the distant scent of summer
rain
Even the sound of her name brings to mind
delicate Shakespearean lady-creatures:
lady-sprite Honeydew flitting about
in forests adorned with soft petal pink,
sweet viridians
On my wooden cutting board, I halve
my luscious green girl, open wide that simple kissymouth.
Her sugared fruitmeat sends waves of ambrosial
love, playfulness even, to my nostrils
We kiss; and oh I'm dizzy with love
for the sweetness of Circe's seafoam
heart-of-mermaid fruit
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