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