slicing through the hardened rind
the blade meets meat
carving through flesh inside
taking a slice each,
soft skin gets stuck between
slabs of yellowing teeth
that will chew, grinding down
even into peel
the curling crown
of our citrus flesh,
the fumbling fat fingers,
too quick to undress
unripe fruit that people take
into hands, their thread
and needle penetrate
Our parts and sew our holes shut
To hide the crimes
of indulging in us
in fruit, i prise open the hole
and cut through stitches
so i am unable to forget
how much i hate them all
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