I know I am becoming
someone else
Yet at the same time
I am the person
I always was
The rind has simply
been zested off
I feel so old
Completely dried up
Yet as your fingers
dig in
My juice
starts to run out
I feel the pulp
constructing me
press against
my papery walls
If you split them carefully
you can take them down
Wholly, one sheet
one peeling each
Removing slippery
oblong seeds
I know you see
every segment of my being
Tasting every bursting
exhilarating droplet
Picking me apart
to discern the
palpable flavor infused
within me
Sucking it
between your lips gently
Exhaling my bright
fresh scent
Hungrily devouring
every bit
even the pith
I'm just a fragrant
pile of potpourri
left lying
on the floor
K.B. Silver
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
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