sharing a pomegranate at the end of november

a new day approaches but first we

peel the fruit back like

fiery fleshy unfurling

kernels falling down in gemmed superstition scattering the floor bloodied

filling the bowl

you eat them in menacing spoonfuls crushing luck between the teeth while our hands wind towards the sun

watching what light does to skin

we speak in purpled tongues

comparing the night's visions

which ones we ought to call dreams reddened lips where the acid clings like tiger balm rogue

making the skin sparkle terrors

we're all catching sunlight

i tell you

my twenties are greedy

for well spent nostalgia

pursed lips pecking into sticky palmfuls seed by seed

i am trying to tell you

about the homes

we only recognize in memory

but

now the sun is high

and if i squint my eyes already i see your shape

loose form, familiar

casting shadows on the horizon