By Jim Gill The hue of the skin, the scent, the heaviness hefted in the hand will indicate whether it is ripe and ready to consume. The innards, the fleshy parts within, are not so easily revealed, it takes a dedicated thumb, or knife, to part the skin and flesh. Some take an anatomical approach, dissect segments symmetrically, while others choose to rip and tear with no attention to the art. Some suck juice vampire-like, pick the pith from between their teeth, though s

By J. Sawyer Clack - Ta-Tack, A great scythe sweeping claw, Bone reforged in metal - Perfection, Scalpel-like, it cleaves, cuts, no - Slices , Flesh is separated from skin, Blood replaced with ichorous oil, Arteries of vanity - Man? No, nor Machine - Something greater, Clack-tack, A faceplate, bearing God’s mark, Smile down, Machine Lord - For our work is done, Precision outweighs will, Thunderous applause,

By Bellatrix I saw it in an aged photo Not the digital kind The one with oxidized fading Light and orb flashes gently nestled where they felt invited No edits, real and raw Faded by time and its propensity to speed the unwanted years Tattered, yellowed and frayed, stained from cigarette smoke and cocktails de jour In a different time, from decades long passed by There she was with her velvet coat The gentle folds of the black midnight fabric Looking so soft What were the stor