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