With one hand I pluck a round fragrant orange from the white china bowl, ignoring its pedestrian neighbors. Tossing it from one hand to the other wanting to know it, balancing it on finger tips rotating the fruit in and out of the palms of my smooth yielding hands.
Cupped hands encircling the California navel mimicking god, who cupped the earth, infusing warmth activating the sweet primordial juices beneath dimpled skin. Lonely hands massage the skin following its tactile ridges north to south then round its equator.
Slowly raising the orange to my nose I breathe deeply extracting musty bark flavor, exciting a tart smile at the corners of my mouth causing anticipation releasing saliva squirts into my mouth.
Slowly exhaling and rolling the orange down to my lips my tongue lingers, drawing a wet target and I bite, teeth piercing the peel hard without bruising the tender skin encasing the meat.
First my thumb makes it way under the skin then my fingers join as I carefully keep the peel in one piece, juice escapes first in one drop then in many leaving sticky tracks down my wrists.
My fingers pull at the core releasing the umbilical attachment exposing a hole like Alice may have seen, but instead of sending in my imagination I jam a finger into it spreading apart sections from their sisters clinging grip exposing them to life outside the womb.
To Be Continued….