Pomegranate

By Malti Jones

Careful
You lift her
fertile weight
delicate
in your palm

Your fingers trace
her smooth skin
youthfully pallid
untouched
under scarlet rouge

Sun ripened
her thick hide is
unweathered
lustrous in its
naked form

She sounds hollow
so you tear
her open
just to
make sure

She smells acrid
her curving belly
unfolded exposes
red jewels glistening
in her womb

Hungrily
you taste her
bitter juice and wonder
if she tastes as sweet now
as you imagined
she would.