You held me like a pomegranate
Gentle in your hand
Allowing me to crack open
To reveal the sweetness
You trusted lay beneath the thick layers
Cradled against you
You coaxed each seed
Like a jewel
Smiling
When the tart juice burst in your mouth
Not afraid to get your hands sticky
Hilary Buffum (she/they) is a Bay Area theatre artist turned writer who grew up on Ramaytush Ohlone land, colonially known as San Francisco. They started writing poetry years ago in the corners of journals as a way to process life and death and grief and identity. In the last few years they have begun to share these pieces with friends and family and now you.