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…