comer una naranja, gustarte (1997)


A quick stab,
I slice the dimpled skin
with rough nails,
slip my thumb
between
the peel
and white fleshy albumen.
Slivers of sun
fall from my fingers
to my feet,
lilt around my toes
like tiger-lily kisses.
A swift stream
of juice spits at my mouth,
curls around my knuckles,
the sticky silk.
Rip the fruit in two,
meet my hungry teeth;
lick the tender smooth
heart
with my tongue-tip,
suckling nectar:
sweet, sour fire in my throat
drips like liquid amber.
Cats lap and loll
rough tongues over my wrists,
curious
as I coo
with a slow swallow,
bite into my lips,
swollen bright with dew.

My muscles quake and quiver,
dripping, I deliver:
inside the fruit,
tasting you.




© 1997, 2004 Heather Corinna. All rights reserved.