quinta-feira, 2 de julho de 2026

The world through a tangerine skin

 Orange peel tiny little polished dents 
covered yellow and green outside
Stringy white skin waste within
Each piece has been consumed

The ripped mess on the table
Once contained something juicy
Now dry and webby
completely empty

I look at how the skin holds itself up
Somewhere in the middle something golden once sat
That could kill thirst and attempt satiety
I tip it into the rubbish bin for the hollowness troubles me






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