regarding atonement – by Michael J. Galko

first sin –
a perfect shape halved –
leaving something
like a melon’s flesh
and seed, dripping,
two hemispheres
longing for a return.

know the blade foresaw
sweetness and bitterness,
and knew nothing fuses
but grace, however clumsy
it comes.

as for grace –
words are not words
but they trip the blood
of fallen moments,
leave little salt rings,
the vanished sweat
of desire held to light.

Michael J. Galko is a scientist and poet who lives and works in Houston, TX. Both his science and his poetry explore wound healing and pain. He has poems recently published or forthcoming in Right Hand Pointing, The Broadkill Review, The Mojave River Review, Picaroon, The 2019 Texas Poetry Calendar, Gargoyle, and descant.

Photographer’s Note: The first stanza of this poem is delicious as sin. It made me think of this photo, of seeds.