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Pomegranate MAG
August 6, 2011
It’s a delicate surgery, slicing open
the grenade.
With the urge to rip off
the tough sunburn and head straight
to the center, peeling back
purse lips to reveal the
jackpot,
I cut.
I’ve broken its crown – worse than a heart.
Clusters crackle, ruby mine, all mine.
I’m the monster. It’s my job to devour.
Forgetting the milky membrane, I kiss,
I sputter rose juice, I stain everything.
Rows of tangy
seeds gleam and cry.
Luscious universes unfold. I’m always
opening new parts, discovering. I am a blood
sucker, a sap licker,
a star eater.
© Taylor Dawn F., The Woodlands, TX
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This was for an English assignment; we had to write about one of our favorite foods using sensory detail.