Pomegranate Seeds
My gatekeeper forfeits the keys to a persistent man
who thieves on all the pomegranates of my fertile garden,
who siphons until the grass blackens,
who ravages me to barren sands
and yet himself remains insatiable and barren within.
My empathy sighs into the hungry hands of the hard-hearted man, I say to him:
“My sex won’t lighten your chestful of lead, darling, I have no roots in Salem.
You are using needle and thread
to stitch up dread the size of a crater.”
21/07/21
