We held the tangerine like a question behind our teeth;
an orange globe of sun balanced on our tongue,
shards of light splintering out into the heath.
We peeled it with crystal triplets, turning rind into wreath.
We felt it sting at our lips, that honey-shine of acid.
We held the tangerine like a question behind our teeth,
warding off glossy-feathered corvids—their greedy beaks.
It trickled down my cheek, pure golden droplets,
shards of light splintering out into the heath.
Dusk crept in, the fruit softened, its taste the Lethe:
we forgot how to swallow, how to see, how to breathe—
we held the tangerine like a question behind our teeth.
I nearly choke on unanswered sweetness as we meet
the pounding insistence of the night’s beat. It cuts me open,
shards of light splintering out into the heath,
as the rhythmic shadow rises from underneath.
Like angels with cavities, we brace an ivory-ribbed sky.
We held the tangerine like a question behind our teeth,
shards of light splintering out into the heath.