Orange Peel

Stunted fingernails scrape back the first slither of orange skin, bounding a torrent of zest to spurt into the royal keyhole of my soul, stinging, watering - heartbreaking. Reluctant, I remove the fruit’s shell longing for a worthy distant aim to splash upon an unwary significant, instead, my citrus emotion’s reflected, discarded, rejected - abandoned. Eyes smarting – juice offends a single soul. Pith concealed – surplus heart needs healing.