Photo by Pratiksha Mohanty on Unsplash
Pomegranate by LindaAnn LoSchiavo
A pomegranate refuses to end, surrender to grit and rind, invading blushes, sunrise, cocktails, Persephone’s craving. Barbed with a rough crown, its fissure teases scarlet sugar, lust hibernating, chords of pips plump with tarty sweetness below the integument.
In Eden it fed desire before being fingered, pried apart, partaken of, the palate’s pink roof darkening with mouthfuls, white sheets kissed with red droplets radiating sticky heat.
After the couple quits the Garden, empty-handed, the pomegranate sinks beneath. Meeting the soil’s dark devotion, seeds probe. Punica granatum propagates, hears its name called by priests promising it hunger, demands to be served.