I’d peel your orange
Until my hands got sticky
Until my nails were clogged
Until the only thing I’d smell
Was the scent of orange

And I’d let the juice
Flow down my hands like water
I’d let the strings
Stick to my clothes
Like lent

All for you
To have perfect slices

And if I were an orange
You’d peel me too
Until there was nothing left
Not even the slices