perishable
she who slices the orange
slices my heart,
skin against skin pulled
apart, clinging on for a lingering moment
before the citrus breaks to
two,
fresh,
cold in my cheeks
icy pain against the soft of my gum,
bursting between teeth.
she who digs
into my skin
will find that i part exactly along
the dimpled lines--
perforated by
nature.