Why Nothing Rhymes With Orange

an easy breakfast

a simple affair

no additional ingredients

or garnish to prepare

just knife and plate on table

essentially quite bare

but ahh that first slice

hypnotic…

begs time to stop and stare

cuz lusciousness has a name

golden and glistening like the sun

that heals the distance in between

beholden and listening out for one

to pause before it's moisture

to gaze full breadth inside its flesh

honor gestation of its juicy

intention captured and then express

those radiant beacons born to bask

make lips and tongue beggars too polite to ask

to lick and bite and suck—not mask

moans of pleasure over dripping task

that won't have you guessing

hydrates and vibrates vitamin C

yes a blessing

can hear you also as priest

should you need to be confessing

‘bout multiplying sweetness

that teases taste buds

and says “to hell” with standard neatness

go all in and relish

these moments

‘ere soon they end

in decadent citrus wanton

as you sip and swallow in a haze

a fruit discovered your heart beats orange

so now

near your pulse it sways

supposed to be a basic breakfast

that would only take a minute

‘til unexpected ecstasy swept down

and *slurrrp* exceeding joyous to be in it

Author's Note: - Some delicious and decadent pleasures are purely that and nothing else.

Some elements of society sexualize anything and everything to make you out to be some kind of pervert. I love me some sex but "some elements" will miss out a great deal on the simple pleasures of a juicy orange without being puritanical obnoxious deviants.

Confession: - It is worth noting that I've had friends who have been puritanical obnoxious deviants.

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I am very appreciative that you read this poem! I put a great deal of effort and time into it, so that means so much to me. You are more than welcome to read more of my work below.