A Palm Sized Galaxy Poem by Jasmine Berry

Purple and pointed; a velvet onion.
It's cosmic outer shell is a palm-sized galaxy
which bobbles and peels away
at the lightest of touch
revealing white-yellow starlight
and thick, sticky juice.

It is wet leaves, pumpkins, persimmons, honey,
Sweet, musky, earthy,
Wet wool mittens,
Disintegrating leaves,
Horse-chestnuts,
Overripe fruit in the reduced section of ASDA,
Figgy-pudding at Christmas that everyone secretly hates.

The discovery of wasps.
The gruesome discovery of a gritty centre.
An insect grave
Concealed within pure white flesh
Which suddenly does not seem so pure.
Concealed inside a tiny galaxy.
Concealed inside my palm.
Rubbed away by my finger-tips which search idly for the truth.

My finger-tips which find a knife
So sharp, so sharp,
Sweet musky juice: pumpkins, persimmons, honey
Red.
Blood.
Murder! Murder!
Hiding behind the fig leaves.
A broken galaxy pooling in my palm.