Im feeling introspective
So I peel a clementine and share it with my mother
She gets a third, I eat the rest
And I mourn the person I was supposed to be.
And I miss being a child again-
I long to find a weak spot in time,
When the light hits the curtain and the fruit aren't ripe yet,
A spot so fragile, I can touch it, pull it apart.
I would wake up on the sofa, the smell of citrus hanging high above my head.
My mother is peeling a Clementine
And she will share it with me
YOU ARE READING
Open Heart Surgery
PuisiI write casually abt things I spend way too much time thinking abt
