Pomegranate

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.