by Nadia Tivvis

she cradles
the watermelon
in her arms
its weight flattens
her fingertips
she rocks
as she walks
shifting: heel-toe, heel-toe
she stumbles
over a bare root
poking through
concrete cracks
her hands fly
to catch her
her feet
catch her
her hands 
drop her
it slaps
the sidewalk
a crack splits
its skull
rind exposed
spraying juices
seeds splatter
among dandelions
pink flesh glistens
on concrete
she cradles
a chunk
between her knees
sprawled in the dirt
eating watermelon
with sticky fingers