My mom came home
with a box
full of red-
orange bliss,
luring citric acid.
I peeled off
its delicate dress,
left it bare,
all skin exposed
to air.
Oh what a beauty
she was,
veins ranging in size
raging from the sides
of each little slice,
she was
an orange-
white delicacy,
a fiesta for
my taste buds.
I was afraid
to go beyond
with
the lovely mist,
not to offend the miss,
the watery fog-
an ocean of pleasure.
My impulse was greater
than
my mind
I split the tumor
in two, like a
scream I heard
the disconnection
of parts
two small,
too large clusters
of sour medicine
for my
unquenchable
craving.
I took it apart
slice by slice
the only size that
could fit
in my mouth.
She wasn’t
happy,
she was crying
with a squeeze,
she spat
in my eyes.
Burning, I took
a bite
couldn’t help but
smile.
As her
squeals vanished
into
silence
there was only one
thought
in my head
“oh, heavenly tangerine.”