Peeling

oranges can be a love language too

Someone gifts me an orange. 

I don't eat oranges. 

Not because I don't like them, 

which would make sense. I think.

I don't make sense.

My fingernails are too short. 

That's why I don't eat oranges. 

My stubby, grubby little fingers

with fingernails bitten right down to the bed 

bloody and red and sore. Oh so sore.

All the time sore. 

Imagine trying to open an orange with these.

The citrus bleeding into the skin. 

I shudder, staring down at the orange. 

Everything I have ever wanted. Everything, 

I can't have. 

You pluck the orange from my hand

And start to peel. 

Your fingernails are just long enough,

to pierce through my rib cage,

to open up an orange. 

You don't look at me, 

until the orange peel twirls,

like a slide from my childhood that barely stirs in my memories,

sitting on the edge of the tray. 

You pull apart the pieces. 

You drop them into my hands.

Everyone else slips away, and then there is 

just you and me.

And the orange. 

The pieces sitting in my open palm.

Like my heart. 

Like you have plucked it straight from my ribcage and

torn it apart with your fingers.

I give you a piece. 

Reviews

[not your muse]

my nibbled nails also would find it harder to peel oranges faster.
loved how the orange and the story get unpeeled at the end.

[Vee]

thank you so much :)

[Arundass TP]

Beautiful written poem. I love oranges. Good work 👍

[Vee]

thank you :)

[mattavelli]

Hello, Vee! :)
This is a sweet write. Thanks for sharing.

[Vee]

Thank you :)

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

Wow love the metaphors here well done
Very deep write
I love oranges
Try a knife quarter them and suck

Great poem

There is so much goodness in an orange its pure sunshine

[Vee]

Thank you so much! You're so right, oranges are pure sunshine! I love them too :)