Issue #54

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orange

an orange in my hands
a sphere’s squeaky titian
leaks sweet juice
slovenly on lusted fingertips
digging deeper into white rind
reminding me of sun
red-yellow and flaring

when mom was pregnant
she had a taste for oranges
nibblin’ on them for desire
in her room ranked of charred
cigarette smoke and negro hair

looking back at old pictures
age old orange tint
present on each distinct frame
i see myself
younger sweeter me and a gap
toothed grin
box braids with gold and orange-y
clasps
or my sisters
with their brown blossomed faces
and orange warmed cheekbones
same age
the twinkle of song in their eyes
our dog many years passed
a spirit of wind and fire
fur red and brown and gold and orange

all at once
the sun is orange
not yellow
beauty in endless fevered heat
burning over and over
spitting rusted spots
and kept in a humble boil
leaking sweet juice
for gaseous stars
to shine its purer gold

bubblin’ acids desire
as people walk down
lead littered sidewalks
hand in hand
going for a kiss
as the orange sunset launders
over them
or kids
as they
attempt
hopscotch
the orange
sooted
chalk
all over
their shoes
to wanting
a goldfish in a bowl
orange sheened scales
effervescent in moss funked water

much like life
or orange’s endless sections
broken off to put
in our mouths
devourin’ and moanin’
mmm
goin’ back for more

Loss

The “Mixed Girl” Remix