Day 24 #napowrimo - day 18 #the100dayproject - Pineapple

Pineapple

I pick it up with its spiky crown,

grip its rough, scaled body;

a blush of yellow at the bottom

and gradient of green to its top.

Some people recommend pulling

a segment of its crown to determine

if it’s ripe or not, but I sniff its bottom.

If it’s ripe, it smells like morning and

sunshine, it smells like a yawn and

a full body stretch, the budding

of jasmine and a sliver of ginger.

If it’s unripe, it smells like nothing.

When I find the right one, I carry it

under the crook of my arm, precious

cargo. At home, I sharpen my big knife

and separate crown and bottom

with a fibrous thump. And there,

the sunburst of yellow flesh, core

tough and thick like a piece of wood.

I sit it up on my cutting board

and shear off its spiny flesh,

scale by scale, side by side,

my hands burning with its juice and pulp.

Seeds and specs of skin exposed,

and it is naked, yellow, a gorgeous

shape, like the glass top of a lantern

illuminating every corner of the kitchen.

I cut and slice, divide its brightness into

cubes, each one a geometry of starlight

or the physical capture of a sunbeam.

I can bite into that flesh and take that light,

digest it into myself, illuminate like a star

in the night, explode into a solar system.

I’ve tasted the stars and the milky way;

I’ve tasted the planets and sunshine

and they tasted sweet.