Heart Of An Octopus

Its body was still pulsating

the ink still traveling

just beneath

the slimy surface

with tenticles still dripping

and salt water dropping

into the sand below

through cracks

in the weathered picnic table

unable to say no

I held out my right hand

and the loin cloth clad kapuna

handed me the heart

seconds removed

from life

minutes removed

from the Pacific

he took it back

diced it,

then handed a slice

of the still-warm

octopus heart

to me

and we followed

with a Samoan coconut water toast

before I thanked our host

and stared out

past the fish pond

watching Haleakala rise

above the horizon

and the sky

began to cry

and I sighed

wondering if the heart

of another octopus

would break

when they realized

their loved one

was taken from them

too soon.

 

 

 

About soitgoes1984

I was born and raised on land stolen from the Pocumtuc. I now live on a small island in the middle of the Pacific ocean, on land that was stolen more recently, from the Hawaiians. I am addict, struggling to kick the habit of fossil fuel.
This entry was posted in broken heart, family, guilt, hawaii, island, love, oceans, poem, Poetry, Uncategorized, water, writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.