Clementines

I peeled back
The opulent orange skin,
And the
fresh fragrance,
Burst into the air.
The glittering juice dribbled
Over my fingers,
Like sunlight spills,
In fantastic fiery droplets,
Into a dim room,
And onto the table,
Now sticky and sweet.
Clementines.
The worldly version of
The sun.
And as I held
It in my palm,
I wondered,
If I could hold
The sun
Like this too.
And as I peeled
The rind
With my bare hands,
I imagined,
Just briefly,
Peeling the sun
Like this too.
Sometimes I like to
Dream
That maybe
Apollo felt pity
For humans.
Not being able
To taste the
sweet, succulent sun.
And so maybe, he
Was the one
Who made it.
A Citrus,
Of bubbling fire,
Like a ferocious tiger,
Curled into a ball.
Sour and tangy,
Yet tender and saccharine.

Five boxes of clementines
Sitting on the counter.
Five boxes of
Gorgeous, glowing amber gems.
And the sun peeked
Through the window,
Grasping at the fruit,
Like he wanted it
Back.
And I picked
One up,
Rough skin touching mine.
And right then,
It wasn’t just
A clementine.
It was a colour,
A song,
A voice,
A painting,
A ball of yarn,
A seed,
An “I love you”.
And for a moment,
A fleeting second,
I had the urge
To steal them all,
And stash them away.
Like jewels,
Impossible to eat.
Like gold,
Impossible to share.
And then,
For a moment,
A flitting instant,
I had the urge
To take them all,
And give them away.
Like food,
Impossible to keep.
Like good news,
Impossible to save.

And I’ve always thought
Of clementines as
Being the fruit of
Love.
Why?
I don’t know exactly.
Maybe it’s the smell,
Maybe it's the colour,
Or maybe it’s when
You rip into the
Ripe, ruby flesh,
And end up with
Two halves.
One bigger than
The other.
Juice running down
Your hands,
Like red,
hot blood.
And you look around,
And look down,
And hand a half,
To the random girl
At the laundromat,
To the old man
On the bench,
To the homeroom teacher,
Alone in the classroom,
To the friend sitting
On your bed,
To the sibling
Who stole your sweater,
To the parent
Who bought it.
And without even knowing,
You had given them
The bigger half.