Coconut

 

Coconut

For JMM

Jonathan used his khukri for the first time in years
to open up the coconut, though first
he drove a fat nail
into its hairy husk, pulled
the nail out, and we watched it's juice drip slowly
into a bowl, clear and not quite sweet or salty
but like something living,
something with a pulse that could grow inside of me
like soft watery roots. He cut the coconut open,
brought it inside,
held one half out to my face
and I breathed in deeply. I carved out a little piece
and we shared it while the two halves baked
and then we easily sliced the white meat from the thick dark
shells. Unable to compare it to anything I'd ever eaten,
unable to stop,
my lips, fingers, and chin greasy from the fat,
stunned at how my life had been drained,
split, heated, and made new,
we chewed until our jaws were aching
and speaking was impossible,
the only sound was that of the roots
hardening and taking hold.