Back to Spring 2019

 naranja

BY ELIZABETH MAIER

Fingers dig
into an orange:
spurts,
stubborn,
peel hops
to the carpet and I start.

Fingers pry:
separate
segments
softly,
gentle.
They fall
apart.

Stubble soft
as each segment
or as the fine hair
on my stomach.

I watch your jaw
and dream of a day
when you will turn
me inside out.