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Punica Rubies


The red rubies that glitter,
After breaking the fruit open, they skitter,
Each as exquisite as a pashmina shawl,
Enjoyed with the lip’s languorous drawl.

Each ruby a world of its own,
Holding the promise of a tree fully grown,
Promise of heavenly bliss,
Which can be experienced till the last kiss.

Kiss which turns the lips red,
But once they are fed,
Chains of desire become bold,
Just like Persephone in Hades’ hold.

Enamor one they will,
Attract towards the netherworld till
Just seven seeds are consumed,
Enough for the dye to be dissolved.

Dye of want so deep,
Dark and luring one to sleep,
Its siren song piercing through the sleepy daze,
Blood red juice dripping through the midnight haze.

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