He pulls out the knife,
and sinks it deep,
into the orange flesh,
and then hands the hilt to me,
I saw away,
as if,
performing an autopsy,
on a dead man.

Finally,
as the knife gives a little,
I pull the top off,
and feel the last little roots,
rip and tear,
and then I pull the top,
off completely.

I stick my hands into,
the gunky mess,
and pull out the seeds,
and set them on the newspaper,
so they can be used for later,
and stick my hand in,
again.

After I scoop out all of the orange yuckies,
I put the top back on,
and pull out my black sharpie,
and I feel as if I am giving the fruit a makeover,
I draw the face,
giving him devilish eyes,
a cackling mouth,
after all,
it’s Halloween.

I pull out the knife,
again,
and saw away,
again,
never taking my blade,
away from the lines.

I feel his first evil eye,
give,
push out the orange,
and sink my knife into his other eye,
as his features,
coalesce,
and I finish,
his mouth,
I sit back,
and admire my work.

And then,
it grows dark,
and my father gives me,
a candle,
and I place it inside,
his “body”.

Imagine,
a lit candle,
in your body?

Then,
we take it outside,
and it really looks,
as if my pumpkin is possessed,
but yet again,
it is Halloween.