Peanuts

The husk bends beneath

beneath my fingers,

but does not break.

I press harder,

straining the stringy

fibers, to no avail.

Adding rotation,

I twist the husk,

and fruitlessly

pull in opposite directions, 

as if manipulating 

a Chinese fingertrap.

But with a final

twist, and yank,

my fingers burst through,

and I feast 

on my tiny prize,

amidst clouds

of brown, 

pulverized,

tissue-paper

seed coating, floating 

like confetti 

about my head.