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Sharing an Orange
- solidfoodpress
- Jul 25
- 1 min read
by Michelle Shelfer
He hands me the other half,
his lips taut, wet, cheeks full,
and leaves me to open the segments
like a prayer book.
Each page yields itself
in spray and glisten,
turning until turning reveals
a hidden thing, a babe blanchette,
where mother tucked her child from discovery—
infant orange bit curled against the white veins
and found.
And eaten, yes, though
sweetness stained by dark interior alarm:
another wetness, another shiny hidden prince,
another swallowed flame.