Orange

Oh Orange
Sometimes, in public place
I shall attempt to break open your shell
with my teeth
It tastes like dirt and
pith and
skin, but
I endeavour,
In spite of looks of incredule and mild disgust
(not unlike eating tuna outside of home dwelling)
because I am aware of reward that awaits my poor sullied teeth.
The breakthrough,
the vigorous peeling back of skin, of pith:
the fruit, the segments,
so perfect in their crescents
(and have you ever looked at the little bubbles of orange juice within?
nature is wonderful)
And then, you devour.
Quenching and vitamins and
sticky fingers and face and nose:
triumph