Pomegranate on my lips
I had no idea
your sweetness
was a death sentence

Offered by your hands
for a lifetime
I was forced to return to you
and once again feel the agony of our parting

To re-live the moment
when I looked into your eyes
and found the echoes of my own soul

Now ripped forth
into the kingdom of the living
dry and sun worn
the corn is dying on the plant

Once this was your place
we walked in the tall grass
you offered me the food from your lips
and proclaimed it sacred 
The raw starchy kernels
burst under my teeth
filling my mouth
with the milk of life

How did we turn to dying?
You offering the fruit that keeps me here forever.

 -Corbyhawk as Persephone