I take hold of it,
I disappear with it.
Bloodshot womb caviar snow,
A benevolent sender.
I ripple its small diamond
birthstones, fire-bombing
graceful grey.
It does not dare hide
Its throbbing emotion.
It wants to stain
my swimming pool lip.
Iris shaped
All red, all between us.
I verse its century face
Imagine era.
I verse its sex
Imagine woman.
I verse its superstition
Imagine empty.
And It remains
A benevolent sender.
Greta Bellamacina
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/benevolent-pomegranate/
