A Fruit Apologizes for Its Ripeness....

     Am a pomegranate, sliced in half,each seed exposed and ready to be plucked.When your fingers come prying at the rindI pray to god my insides don’t go leaking out.Sorry for spilling my guts on the table.Sorry for giving up so much of myself.You just wanted a quick look at my anatomybefore I molded, it’s fine, I understand.I don’t know how to hold anything in.Barriers make no sense to me –I seep through them like condensation,like rain on a windowdying to get in where it’s warm.I am organic matter; what I lack in metal and structureI make up for with blood and bones –too human to mimic a skeleton,too fluid to imitate something still.And maybe I’ve been exposed to you for too long –exposed like fruit to oxygen,exposed like mummified skin.If that’s the case, I’m sorry for rotting,and I’m sorry for bringing the flies in.o