By Katje Kaase

The watermelon rind was left

Juices plucked and eaten

It was green and seedless

Like her hollowness

That feeling of lost control

No longer whole

The platter was white

Washed and put away

Spotless once again

Ready for more fruit

A taste to recapture

That ripe random rapture

But...the rind was still bare

August, 2019