This poem was part of my selection of poetry that won second place for the University of California system-wide 2010 Ina Coolbrith Memorial Poetry Prize.
Peeling
An orange shatters
a thin line of juice to
my skin and dries
into another skin.
Like lizards on a mountain: scaled
and darting on my knuckle summit.
Bal an cinG
my phone to
my ear
and peeling oranges and
eating bright round oranges,
The white pith is soft
(I) like your face
too much
and tasteless.
My belly is sinG
ing
Bal lads:
“I can feel from where the pleasure blooms
and the hard rind also.”
In my hand is
the phone, you
shattering up with me and
in my hand
is a spun circle.
This was once a flower but
now it runs down my face.
You were once my
face, my
belly, my
skin, but now you run
(me) down
my throat.
