Then sweep me off my feet into your palm.
With your fallow smile are hearts broken open
like watermelons, split apart
to spill ripe red skies winking black stars.
At your fallow smile, young hearts break open –
easy fruit hastened to maturity,
ripe and red. Skies wink black, stars
spark tiny lies of bright existence.
You found it easy – fruit hastened to maturity
too soon – but I am not blinded
by your sparkle, by lies hiding a tiny existence.
I set you at my feet, sweep you into my palm.