Orange Compassions [2-16-13]

Her summery-supple skin

reminded me of something

I’d tasted before

the morning dew

rolling over her

simple pores, slightly rough-

they always kept me out

Inside her:

golden pockets of sunshine

develop in her smile-

bursting in her eyes

as I attempt to

capture the fruitfulness I’ve picked

She was sweet, but some

pockets were complex: overlapping

piling into wedges, compartments of her being.

Making her a whole I’ve yet to have shed her cocoon.

In the rays she grew

the green engulfed her

in a place only children

know how to climb to

there she bloomed.

There her fragrant skin

found me.

There she was delicious.