When you took me down

you placed 1 pomegranate seed
on my tongue
sweet sweet blood          I begged
then for the 5 still in hand

When you offered me
6 more I offered you my
breasts         you crushed seeds in your teeth
licked until my nipples
dripped red

Thus I came to owe you 1 year

The next 12 seeds I hid in the lips
of my clear-cut vulva          lay awaiting
discovery          of this promised 2nd year

60 seeds you slid into my
vagina then fucked me as no one ever had
sweet sweet blood running
made me        virgin          yours

5 years owed a down payment towards

the 1200 seeds I smashed to dye
my wedding dress sweet sweet blood red
swinging through our Descension Capoeira
half the guests jealous          half, appalled

with a nod to poet Aimee Nezhukumatathil, whose “At Medusa’s Hair Salon” I read before falling asleep last night, sending my mind into the realm of Greek myth such that the outline of this poem came to me and got scrawled on paper before I fell asleep. Don’t miss her excellent At the Drive-In Volcano.