So you´ve found orange stains under your fingernails
Peels discarded
drops of juice on the table
a slight zing subsiding from the lips
Remember when you started peeling it
how anticipation hung
like the cottony short threads of internal skin
The subtle rip and the ease of the skin as it seperated
You were so young
time went by
fingernails grew
The fruit was ripe
Now the inner fruit is naked
Pick out a segment and break it between your teeth
The juice fuses with the saliva in your mouth
Though the pip distracts you from the sweetness
You knew little
events passed like harvests
Your eyes both opened and squinted
Even fruit has it´s stones
Finish the last segment
Discard the skin
Throw the pips on some heap of earth
Maybe one of them will sprout a tangelo tree
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