My Love is an Orange

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My love is an orange,
appealing. Pulling back the exterior
from a long workday;
feeling the soft, bouncy flesh
of your body
relax under my finger,
tearing you apart
to expose sweetness.

Juice drips down
your surface
as I gently bite the neck,
sourness and sugar.
Seed of thought dug deep,
extracting the stress
pressing inside.
When finished,
a lay of pieces
relax on the table.
My love is an orange.

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