The First Time I Broke You Open

I dug into this orange today and it reminded me of you

The skin broke easy under my thumb and forefinger, and was thicker than I expected

The membrane broke just slightly under pressure once exposed

And a trail of juice ran down the side of my thumb

I licked it off, quickly, before it dropped off the edge of my hand

Folds of orange petals pressed up, alert through the white skin

And I moved my fingernails carefully around them

I split the orange once, then twice, then into quarters

Picked from the shelf it was warm as I peeled it, warm as I tasted the first slice

It tasted like vodka,

There’s orange peel under my sticky hands

My unwashed hands smell of you

Rather, what reminds me of you

 

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