Sue Russell

touch the bristled navel
tap your fingernail against the hull
a woody sound belies the inner splendor
saw with a serrated knife then bend back the husk
exposing a brain of crimson clothed seeds
wrapped in gauzy tissue

a few cling to fitted grooves on the folded rind
dislodge them with your teeth
you cannot help but nick the acrid inner skin
your lips pucker and protest until a tart-sweetness flows

plan to eat each nib separately,
but you will nonetheless rebel and rake
ruby sacs into your watering mouth
you chew for the sweetness
but a tiny aril releases an acerbic burst
to temper your lust

gently prick one jewel between your teeth
releasing piquant nectar
eat one at a time with iron resolve until you don’t
then rake and chew
braving the bitter for the sweet

halfway through you tire of the taste bud seesaw
and the grit upon your tongue
then fold the leathery canopy
over the remaining skins of juice
and save until you only remember the sweet