Reduced Melon

Your skin is like a scaly lizard

Who's just about to flake.

The yellow sticker on your nethers

Speaks of your exclusivity

As soon, like Elvis, you will leave the building

For the limo dumpster.

Or have a second chance in the community

At the fridge, maybe

Where a grateful stranger's hands

May fondle you before placing you

Ignominiously next to the tins of soup.

I'm not going to let you go.

Today, you are mine

And I pick you up with just one hand

And give you a squeeze.

Oh, yes.

Still firm.

Ripe and ready to be taken home.

You, my sweet, are mine.

You may be fading,

Your colours muting and

You're shrinking in your increasing age

But when I split you open

You are gorgeous.

I strip you of your pips

And consume.

Delicious.

***

So, ahem, this is a poem about melon which had been reduced in price at the supermarket and was particularly tasty but on reflection, this poem reads more like smut than appreciation. For that, I apologise. It wasn't really my intent but as I kept writing, I thought it was quite funny in some ways, the desire that I declare for this melon and the way I select it, although it's also feels seedy somehow, if that's not a pun too far.

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read it, please do drop a comment as I love it when people drop by and it's always good to interact.