Persephone's Lament

In the crisp bite of winter

At the end of an era

I tear into the flesh of the fruit

I pick with grubby hands

I tear at the sinews

I engorge myself on the decadence of it

I have starved myself in anticipation of your arrival

This winter has been the coldest

I leave no traces

Just streaks of ruby red on my fingertips

You're just a gutted body

And I'm just a man