Petra,
I also LOVE pomegranates and I look forward to those fall weeks. I usually buy 5 at a time and seed them all at once in a big bowl of
water. Then I dry them on towels and keep them in zipbags in the refrigerator and take them to work everyday. My Lebanese grandmother introduced them to me as a child.

I get so small.  Each red chamber an enchanted doorway, down through the arch to a forbidden world.  That such an experience stains isn’t surprising. 

Each globe has its own tale, a secret to open only in the mother secrecy of your mouth.  Your teeth become so white in your mind!  So hard!  So precise.  No one but you feels how each trove advances.

Each chamber is filled precisely with magic.  Just look how the transparencies fit so perfectly, nest so tightly—in fact those membranes transform all horrid, so biological unity… and instantly… into the divinity of the starry night sky.

And in utter, utter privacy. 

And the pith!  The whole of life in inverse, a judgment, where thousands of wombs have pressed.  Like eating your way back into your origin.

You could start with a fingertip and eat up your arm; the imprint of your clavicle, your whole body emerged and returned with each story.  The pith means that every chance has been taken, no opportunity has been lost, all have borne fruit.  There is nothing mundane about a Pomegranate.