Cucumber and melon
I feel tied to the earth with a heap of you on my fingers.
I haven’t eaten melon since summer,
cucumber I had last week.
I don’t miss your predecessor,
body lotion that smelled like my lover,
my lover who is gone,
who smelled like strawberries.
I felt dizzy every time I smelled strawberries.
Rich in oatmeal like I’m a kid again,
waking up early to finish Harry Potter and coming downstairs for juice and oatmeal.
Rich in aloe like the plant I held on my lap in the backseat,
held like a child or a newborn kitten,
on the way home at sunset.
Its thick, rubbery leaf engrossed me,
I bit it on impulse and it didn’t taste good.
I put it on my bug bite and felt like Demeter.
I rub gel between my hands and want to grow like a cucumber.