Forbidden Fruit

Author: Angelina Wright

My lungs are the seeds. 
My spine is the roots.  
My ripeness washes over you 
And my taste is sweet.  
Pomegranates are grown.  
In the holy dirt. 
My grandfather tells me stories of the fruit grown,  
In Armenia.  
He says once you’ve tasted the fruit kissed by the cross of Christ, 
You’re healed forever. 
Those are some pretty big shoes to fill.