Orange marmalade

 

Monday, February 02, 2015

 

 

The tang of it stings my tongue

As I lick the curved inside of the spoon,

Lumps of rind still cool from the refrigerator

Clinging to my mouth as I lust for more

The kiss of sweet saddled with the lash of bitter

Lapped up and consumed

Unable for me to tell which is which

If indeed there is a difference,

And in hungering for sweet we must accept the bitter

I rarely spread across bread instead consume it

Straight out of the depths of the jar

Rattling my spoon at its bottom,

Licking as deep as my tongue will go

First around the grooves near where the lid screws on

And then into the deep of it, each inch

A painful reach that makes me ache the deeper I go

I can never get it all, as deep a reach as my tongue has –

Even my fingers, scraping the bottom

Can’t get at all the fruit, hidden in the crevices

And I settle to licking off what my fingers have found,

And still not in the least satisfied.