The Green Checkered Face

I take firm grasp of the handle My goal reflected in the steel of the knife, I put the knife to its green face Its' checkered skin; I flex my bicep, grimace with thirst I remember the day’s troubles, The day’s triumphs, And I cut The blade breaks the rough surface Shatters the smooth oval, And sinks deep into the soft redness beneath Juice flows over my hands, and I forget my thoughts, I reach in and take firm grasp of its heart I wrench it out with red dripping fingers Slobbering it into my mouth The sweetness of the watermelon sends my heart racing with joy And I reminisce that I had forgotten the plate. P.S, for those who may not know, the sweetest part of the watermelon is the heart (hence reaching for the heart) © Samir Georges 2010