Citrus

She looked at me as her slim, white fingers
deftly peeled an orange,
neatly pulling back
its waxy skin and releasing
puffs of citrus perfume to the air like
incense, heady and enticing,
and I looked at her as
her small, sharp fingers
sectioned moon-crescent
slices, plump and ruddy and
firm with their
sharp, sour-sweetness,
and she looked
at me as her small, white teeth
cleanly separated an orange’s flesh,
slicing into soft, parting
skin and I
looked
at her as she smiled at me with
her small, sharp teeth and
neatly licked a slim, white fingertip.

Reviews

[Wolf_Moon]

Pardon me. I mixed up your screen name with the name of a different poem- 'Aerialist', was it? Instead of writing 'Adele' I meant to write 'Aerialist.'

[Wolf_Moon]

Almost scary. The girl whom you describe seems slightly demonic, with 'her small, sharp teeth' and 'her slim, white fingers'. It's haunting, almost, and yet so simple.

Very nice description, especially of that distinct smell of citrus. One mistake I caught:
'puffs of citrus perfume to the air like
incense, heady and enticing,' You should take the 'like' out, it disrupts the flow.

I liked this a lot more than 'Adele'. Great job.