The first pear blushes; you’ve discovered him naked with his companions, their fleshy bodies inches apart. The second darkened with secret:
she dreams she’s an avocado, seeded. The third, pregnant, round-bellied and juicy. Which do you devour first? Sinking your teeth deep into flesh,
allowing nectar to drip down your chin, the pleasure you denied yourself—long enough, but not too long, for fear of decay or diminished desire.
Bethany Jarmul (Twitter: @BethanyJarmul) is an Appalachian writer and poet. She’s the author of two chapbooks, including a mini-memoir Take Me Home now available from Belle Point Press. Her debut poetry collection Lightning Is a Mother is forthcoming with ELJ Editions in 2025. Her work has been published in many magazines including Rattle, Brevity, Salamander, and South Florida Poetry Journal. Her writing was selected for Best Spiritual Literature 2023 and Best Small Fictions 2024, and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, The Best of the Net, Best Microfiction, and Wigleaf Top 50.
