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Written by Rowan HC Writer, Rachel V.

nights where we shared a peeled orange

and two pieces of 72% dark chocolate,

philosophy spilling between mouths

even when the sun had yet to set

holding on in the tangerine skies

eavesdropping in on us while

my teeth snapped the chocolate

into a clichéd one half of a whole —-

it revealed itself with marmalade

radiating through the glass and dancing

on the wooden floor the anachronous

shag carpet couldn’t manage to osculate.

was it all to send us into speculation?

wondering why we can’t put chocolate

past our lips first, or else the fruit would

just be excessively sour for us to eat? or,

did a persimmon tincture of the parlor

make you see me in a little better light?

me, sat in the looted apricot farms tee,

just a sensual stare before divulgence

finally saying that one thing back to me

maybe that’s why i can’t start my morning

until i have a slice of clementine rest my tongue

leaving a trail that i hope you’ll indulge for

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