Diana Rosen

Freelance Web Site Content Contributor, Essayist, Flash Fiction Writer, and Poet

Oct 19, 2020
Published on: zingarapoet.net
1 min read

The basket of fresh-picked oranges

a nest of hardened pockmarked yolks

buffed to an acceptable smoothness

sits docile, waiting, fragrant with

that sweet acid burst that draws you

to pull off one stubborn leaf-dotted stem.

Its spicy spray tickles your nose, rains.

on your beard, smarts your eyes, still

you keep tearing away the thick skin,

scraping off the soft bitter pith

to expose each plump section

ready for your lips

small expectant lips

hidden under a snowy mustache

wonderful lips

that open slightly,

give me citrus kisses

my happy tongue

licks into a smile.