Again I honour Rienzi Crusz. Waterloo Poet

Elegy for an Orange

How your roundness

throbbed to titillate,

dress of furious saffron

took my eyes;

and your skin, soft as diaper,

a snow-flake to the touch,

flooded my island of nerves,

collected water in my mouth.

But I could not love you.

I could not seduce you,

I wanted you in totality,

a chemistry of assimilation.

You had to die

tortured for your exotic perfections:

my thumb in your throat,

one heave, and I burst you open.

Blood spilled.

I tasted you limb by limb

wanting you only

in the tongue’s orgasm

of your sun-ripe death.

Taken from the collection, Elephant and Ice

Harmonicahelps.….. from a contented Busker.