What an Orange Wants
picture fire picture blood
a palate of petition..
hanging and pleading surrounded in self,
a yearning flirting vestal pulp..
so I stepped and reached to touch.
i plucked it down, thumbed the skin
and nosed the lovely orb for scent
then, peeled it open split it wide..
a spurt. a spray, the juice hit my face
how I longed to suck and suck and savor..
i put it to my mouth, and ah
there was no sugar, only pucker, only tang.
should I, should I put her back up on the limb?
could I? hang her back up in the sun?
I just couldn’t. so I spooned sugar on her and gorged.
i’m really sorry orange, really sorry. i couldn’t wait..
©2003 Samuel Saint Thomas