by Sarah Goughnor
The fruit bleeds out juice
That trickles down my fingers.
A sweet cloying scent rises up
Out of its ripe, golden flesh
As I press down with the sharp,
Glinting edge of my kitchen knife.
The shy interior blossoms
Exposing the tender pulp
Beneath its sunset-hued skin
As though I’ve sliced open the sky.
I caress the curve of the fruit
And carve my blade into its pit.
I lift my fingertips to let my tongue
Catch a slow droplet of tangy nectar
Sliding across my palm.
Sarah Goughnor is from Herndon, Virginia. She is currently majoring in Creative Writing at Old Dominion University. Her poem “Thin Ice” was the Undergraduate Winner in the Old Dominion University 2011 College Poetry Prize contest. Her poem “Mango” received an Honorable Mention.