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“There are boxes of clementines in the kitchen and the thing is that I love you again. The thing is that I love what orange tastes like so I eat too much of it and end up sick. Last year, I brought up questions about mending after loss and all orange could bring was eye spasms and stomach aches. But now, the only pain left is left in rinds, and there are plenty of ways to remove it from the heart. I won’t do it, though. Instead, I will mock the break with more breaking and eat all the clementines again. I only say “again” because I don’t know how to say I never stopped.” — Alessia Di Cesare
There are boxes of clementines
in the kitchen and the thing is that
I love you again. The thing is that
I love what orange tastes like so
I eat too much of it and end up sick.
Last year, I brought up questions
about mending after loss
and all orange could bring was
eye spasms and stomach aches.
But now, the only pain left is left
in rinds, and there are plenty of ways
to remove it from the heart.
I won’t do it, though. Instead, I will
mock the break with more breaking
and eat all the clementines again.
I only say “again” because
I don’t know how to say
I never stopped.