Red Seeds

There are ways of eating pomegranates in Iran.

In Persia we soften the fruit by pressing into it hard,

Then we bite the flesh to release the juices.

 

With my lips on your not quite a clit,

Not quite a cock,

Your special swell of flesh,

Your knob of berry,

I suck.

 

Holding you down,

My palms flat upon your thighs,

Pressed down hard,

I can’t help myself,

And I growling nip your labia,

My teeth white and sharp,

Each bite causing your wings to engorge all hot and ripe,

You yell with pleasure,

I feel my cunt tightening and pounding.

 

We burst at once,

Our red, glistening seeds open,

Our hearts open,

Juices of our fruit streaming sticky sweet,

We shine.

 

About Avery Cassell

Avery Cassell is a queer butch San Francisco writer, poet, cartoonist, and artist who grew up in Iran.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Red Seeds

  1. Paul says:

    There are few poets around who can do what you do as well you do. The honesty, directness and sincerity of the work in combination with the great technical skill and control allow you to walk that fine line between the obvious and the artistic with wonderful grace.

    Like

  2. Fabio says:

    This made me so happy I can’t stop smiling. It just makes me want to print it, and crumple it up, and carry it around so that when I’m feeling down, I can squeeze it and feel better.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s