5 days till tonic

Sunset Buttercups by Joni N

Women are well-accustomed
to walking on eggshells,
bombshells treading heavy
on glass-shards;
nails driven deep into their heels;
to the marrow,
splintering.

Straps don’t cushion the blow,
and neither do the chandeliers
hanging from your lobes.
They drag down both hemispheres
into this sad, open
vulnerable
watermelon, going bad on hot cement.
All the kids that wanted it
scrunch up their noses.

What good is a melon
gone bad?

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