She kills the watermelon that is the same size as her head with extreme indulgence. She digs out the red flesh to eat it.
After being hollowed out, the whole watermelon becomes a container of a new space. The eyesight is broadened for that she is the hunter and the prey.
If such a red container, flashing the light of sexual passion, is an assumption of death. Then what kind of “emptiness” do we hide from here and nowhere.
When the soil decomposes every unit of the body’s flesh and breath, can the pile of bones left behind to be used as evidence of existence? Do we really become nature after the end of life?