Orange segments
peeled and unwinding,
they leave a subtle aroma
of acid that curls in the
throat and coats in
soothing memories
As each piece
is separated, a
new era is born;
one is sweet,
one is sour,
one is salty,
and one is indescribable.
The whole divides
into hemispheres;
one grows old and
fades with time while
the other comes to
fruition and ripens
steadily.
The sweetest fragment
gives way to utter bliss;
whilst the sour counterpart
is that acrid aftertaste
when all that is gold
does not stay.
Salty comes to mind that
never-ending melancholy
whence the crystal drops
freeze-dry and become part
of the bruised psyche.
The indescribable taste
is justly so;
mysterious and unknown
to all who come into
contact with it.
It speaks of the fate
that does not have
a design, yet.
As times dictates,
each segment has
a purpose whilst the
others wait patiently
by spoiling or surviving
this chill to become part
of something else entirely.
Regardless of the effect
they have upon our tongues;
each savoury piece is one
we yearn to try whether it
scalds us or warms us up
from the inside.
So, let's hear it for the
two-thousand and ninth
segment, and let's hope
its sweetness will surpass
the sour.










