By Nancy Slim | Staff Writer

my heart is like a huge red pomegranate with its chambers full of people i love and places i’ve been. often, i crack it open and reminisce about all the moments i’ve stored away for years, hidden between its white fragile walls.

i devour them.

i let their juices run down my lips and forearms, leaving stains the colour of blood on my pale white skin. they taste bittersweet.

i flip the fruit and crack it open once more, only to find pristine seeds i’ve never noticed before. resting there, unexplored just yet.

i look time in the eyes and he shakes his head saying: only i could tell you how their juice tastes like. now, don’t cut them open and ruin the surprise!