if i'm alive, it's because i told the truth

pomegranate teeth

sweet sweet sweet
wounds tickled her feet.
bruises-her valentine roses.
charred glitter pried her open
as a tight-lipped fox danced its way toward her,
all too pleased by her tearful eyes
that would rather hide than defy him.

"dear darling persephone, goddess of spring," she prayed,
"hear my prayer as i ask again to give me
the courage of your pomegranate teeth.
it will rattle inside me and i will
pay homage to you by burying him
in the woods,
and tiptoe around him,
smearing pomegranate all along the trees.
my dear, remind me of my divinity, i ask so mote it be."

his breath was her offering-apricot and spice.
a twisted delight,
if she didn't know it would lose its effect in the morning.
but for now,
he was flesh, the whisper of a heart closed shut, and nothing else.
she was little lies and a
lavender dress-a phantom of
her only smile left.