Sunday, May 23, 2010


Today I want to show you guavas. I want your eyes to feast on them.
Guavas ripe and over-ripe, matured, fleshy, fruity.

Yellow guavas with a pink inner carved and eaten up by birds, fallen onto a bed of dead lilac flowers and stones. 

Green guavas still full and juicy, provoking the birds to have an orgy on them.
Sexual and tight, ready to pop open.

Guavas in all phases of splendid beauty, luscious, swollen and opulent. 

Opened up and moist, sweet smelling, lying next to pink petals. 

And rotten, liquid 

Shaped like perfect breasts waiting to be touched.

Patterned. And in opulence.
You might ask why talk about guavas? In the end it's only a pile of decaying fruit.
 But I do have a guava tree.

And this makes me wanna do things with them. Except eat. 

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