Pomegranate

Working the water-line the apple haunts the edge of—

A shard of selenite is said to clear negativity.

Like a stained glass window.

Against the rules, we coupled on your grandmother’s floor.

Write it the way a Painted Lady explosion

erases it. Five minutes ago.

Thus, you grow faint like bioluminescence.

Pouring what I know into small vials. Back and forth.

Blur the field to include not-seeing.

When we were a potted plant or something.

Halved pomegranate knocked against a bowl.

Thus, is every tree wild?

Caretaker,

so what if they do not look back at you—

Source: PoetryNow (2018)