Framed found poem

How to eat a guava; Esmeralda Santiago; page 543

A ripe guava is yellow

The skin is thick, firm, and sweet

When you bite into a ripe guava, your teeth must grip the bumpy surface

You grimace

Your eyes water

Your cheeks disappear as your lips purse into a tight O

You have another, then another

Enjoying the crunchy sounds

The acid taste

The gritty texture of the unripe center

A green guava is sour and hard

You hear the skin, meat, and seeds crunching inside your head

While the inside of your mouth explodes in little spurts of sour

The guava joins its sister under the harsh florescent light of the exotic fruit display

I push mine away

Toward the apples and pears of my adulthood

Their nearly seedless ripeness predictable and bittersweet