I place the knife on it
pressing its sharp edge gently
on the smooth hard husk,
then peel it layer by layer;
tugging first, at the thick outer casing,
then remove the spongy membrane
delicately,
to reveal varied chambers of rubies.
They stain my thin long fingers,
these fleshy jewels,as I pick them out,
the only way to cure...they tell me...
I take,
a cluster of cardinal joy, accordingly, and
lay them tenderly on the plate...
Next a bunch of garnets,
of fear and other anxieties;
a conglomeration of fury follows,
scarlet berries popping and exploding on the platter,
and finally the sanguine debilitating pain,
rotting seeds which I reluctantly throw away,
a reminder of my pomegranate days...
