Work Text:
Love is a beautiful thing
I love the feeling of love
I love pomegranates too
I love the many ways people think to eat them
Some people break open the delicate skin
To prove it wasn’t so delicate at all
And as they gut the seeds to get to the young fruit inside
They prove their want…
They want the fruit so badly, they’ll change it completely
Even if it means to hurt the flesh inside
And as the blood of the fruit is shown of their hands
They have proved their want…
And as the remains of the fruit are scattered
It’s proof of being loved
But others prefer to delicately take the fruit apart
They carefully peel and take out the seeds
Bragging as they do so
The peel is left almost completely intact in the end
As if the persons love was so strong, they never wanted to hurt it in the first place
But as they enjoy the fruit with their clean hands
No traces of love and want are left over…
Did they even want the fruit in the first place?
But then again…
Did the person who took the pomegranate so violently want the fruit either…?
Or were they only as hungry and selfish as the person who bragged about taking it gently?
I don’t think I like pomegranates…
Or “love”
But I am hungry for them