Orange

I grasp it's self radiant brightness
a cool orange sun
Made for human eyes

It's skin is smooth and textured
Like a planet plagued with matching hills and valleys
Of a creator with a knack for consistency

I press my nail into the peel
And hear the piff as I penetrate it's protective layer
A soft transparent mist
With a strong scent of citrus
Dissipates into the air

I start at the top
Pulling the root from its vortex
Another pop
The opposite sensation of placing a key
Into a perfectly fitting lock

The peal tears from the veiny white membrane
With the sound of a less resistant
Less artificial Velcro
I rip in staggered calculated angles
To optimize the process

But with the gentle care I would apply
To undressing a diety
Taking breathes
between the all important steps

The fruit is naked
Like a brain on a dissection table
Brutally stranded in the open
Away from its shell

As if peering into a forbidden essence
My mouth waters