Orchards

 

I scrub the orange residue out from beneath my fingernails

From the crests of cuticles

Because its fun to be kissed in the dark

And I am left with myself and the pulp of the moment

He is gone by now

Where he’d been an obstacle before;

The stubborn rind I had to peel

To get to the juicy fibers I really craved.

© Jennifer Chaussee

 

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Reviews

[Terryg]

You used the metaphor well. The He now pealed is without a rid. Scary. and exciting. And all citrus-y. sweet.