Sticky Figs
The Italians vulgarly say, it stands for the female part; the fig-fruit:
The fissure, the yoni,
The wonderful moist conductivity towards the centre.…
‘Figs’ – D.H. Lawrence
Before I’m old enough to be some boy’s
Intense, low-calorie, half innocent
Lip-smacking snack that leaves his young mouth wet
With decadent tastes, cravings that rock him
Awake, I learned to test a milky-sapped
Sac on its stem. Until it’s ripe, you can’t
Disturb a fig. Don’t suck it, cradling
Its tender wrapper of unripened skin.
All winter, fig trees huddle under tarps,
Enjoying long pajama parties, stark
Naked, their branches tied, unable to stretch.
This hibernation – their adolescence –
Creates desired sweetness through its stem.
In autumn dried fruit decorates the plates,
Bright, wrinkled apricots, dark juicy figs,
Patience rewarded. With maturity
Comes knowing when to loot the tree – or wait.
Intense, low-calorie, half innocent
Lip-smacking snack that leaves his young mouth wet
With decadent tastes, cravings that rock him
Awake, I learned to test a milky-sapped
Sac on its stem. Until it’s ripe, you can’t
Disturb a fig. Don’t suck it, cradling
Its tender wrapper of unripened skin.
All winter, fig trees huddle under tarps,
Enjoying long pajama parties, stark
Naked, their branches tied, unable to stretch.
This hibernation – their adolescence –
Creates desired sweetness through its stem.
In autumn dried fruit decorates the plates,
Bright, wrinkled apricots, dark juicy figs,
Patience rewarded. With maturity
Comes knowing when to loot the tree – or wait.