|Photo Credit: 'Wrench' by Heather Evans Smith|
She made seams on their sides, little fingers pulling apart the fingers that fused on the top.
With severed unity, they split in halves, bidding their goodbyes,
as they spilled all over a ceramic plate.
Cracking the shell, she tore through the thin white inner membranes.
Membranes designed like flattened out bubble wrap.
Bubble wrap that had already been squished out of their powers to protect.
Precious red gems popped open, in a haphazard disarray.
Each containing the promise of the entire fruit.
Filled with the liquid of life, bearing within the seed of joy.
She clasped one between her index and thumb,
pressing it's walls to test for ripeness.
They gave in. Ink stains leaving their mark.
Juices trailing on fingers, palms, and plate alike.
Collecting them loosely she filled an entire bowl,
and crunched spoonfuls of seven seeds with each bite,
whirling them on her tongue as she memorized her homework.
Plate clean and no smudges in sight, she got up to clear the table,
wondering how some seeds had left their mark on her chair cushion,
while she was still sitting on it.