by Sarah Torribio

Created on: July 24, 2010

Watermelon is . . .

. . . the tongue in summer's grin—
a gibbous-moon punchbowl
of debutante gin.

Watermelon is . . .

a flush-cheeked crush—
a sweet, stolen portion
of kachina-doll mush.

Watermelon is. . .

a kissing-booth surprise-
seeds like little silhouettes,
flesh like fiery skies.

Watermelon is. . .

the girl who leaves the ball
when she's wilting on the vine
in a dead-drunk crawl.

Watermelon is. . .

an ice cube tray-
full of champagne
and the American way.

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