By: Phoebe Huang
In the dark night,
Peeking out of her pocket,
A ball of flame –
Crooked stem,
Zest –
Dusty surface.
Feed for the day,
Precious like gold and diamonds
And surviving hope.
Peeled open,
Line
Of blazing white.
Half and half,
One slice at a time –
Juicy.
Flame drops spurt out,
Bubbling on the sidewalk.
Tangerine
Sizzling on her tongue
Juice and meat
Citrus
A fruit for some,
Treasure for her –
Tangerine.