I use to see it as spam

I never could see the appeal

I would take a pocket mirror and lower it down there

Until I ate a pomogrante

I unpeeled it and took out the juicy seeds

As I watched my finger nails turn red

I thought carefully about it

I knew then it was the shell that was important it was what the shell  concealled, protected

I don't know if I'll ever be a bedroom goddess and compel my lover to unfold me

But I won't cross my legs tightly and smile sheepishly anymore

Not when I have such tart decandance ready to be savoured

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