Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Exposed (Poem)

Exposed

You try not to bruise
the tangerine as you peel

back the pulp, mindful
how tearing into plumpy flesh

too quickly leaves you
wanting. You dangle a second

from its threaded vein
the single crescent you will lift

to your mouth just before light
breaks, the night spent

kissing below the arc of the moon
causing you to question

how cold fruit must become
once you pull away the rind.

© 2012 Maureen E. Doallas

11 comments:

Kathleen said...

Oh, my! What a great way to start the morning. And the last 2 lines gave me a chill.

humbird said...

Wonderful imagery, Maureen...

nance said...

spritzee :-)

S. Etole said...

Feels chilly just reading.

R.H. Mustard said...

I really like the simple, yet also very complex imagery in this poem. It pulls the sensation, the taste, the moon, and vulnerabilty of love so very delicately together. Like all great poems, it hits me in a tender spot, making me feel something I was not prepared for. One of your very best.

Semaphore said...

Ah, this brings to mind the imagery of the Spanish-language poets, the teeth biting into the tang from an ode to fruit by Neruda

Brian Miller said...

delicious...enjoyed the eating of the orange and the thought provoking link to kissing last night....smiles.

Louise said...

Oh wow...really enjoyed this. Delicious but with a very sharp tang...

Beachanny said...

It was an exploration of the crescent shapes and textures - the shape of the segments of tangerine (the color itself blazing with passion) the threads that connect with their feel on my fingers, the shape of the moon, the shape of lips, the texture of love grown cold. All written more economically than this comment. Excellent work, as always.

aka_andrea said...

Love this!

Laura said...

Just spent the last half hour catching up on your posts and came to this one. Had to stop and say, "wow". This makes me want a tangerine. Or a kiss. And we don't have any tangerines in the kitchen...