I can measure my life in slices of an orange.
In childhood / everything is sweet / and nothing gets in the way of joy / and someone is always there / to peel it just the way you like.
THE SENTIMENT OF CITRUS BY BAYLEE PAWSEY 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 111
I’ve never felt my age
never worn the years weary
but one thing I’ve realized
is I can measure my life
in slices of an orange
The first, each slice
meticulously peeled apart
so not a single fragment
of pouch or pith
remains on the juicy flesh
Because in childhood
everything is sweet
and nothing gets in the way of joy
and someone is always there
to peel it just the way you like
As a teenager
the whole thing is cut
juiced and scrapped
craving the sweetness but
lacking the patience
Young adulthood
harbored no oranges
He didn’t like the way they smelled
Bright astringent citrus lingered
out of the control he demanded
And then there’s now
on a lunch break from the grind
each section peeled slowly
chewed whole
and never lasting long enough
I used to only like
the very best
of the orang…