Sometimes you have to tear it open

rip the orange peel

Let the juice drip.

The thin orange rind cuts under your nail.

It burns and stings and slays. 

Rind covering the fruit like layers of armor.

Clawing, one piece at a time

Bit by bit, you finally find the 

citrus scents greeting the stale air.

Break it open.

Pull apart the perfectly portioned section.

Don’t stop until the sweetness hits your tongue.

Relentless for hidden glory. 

Disheveled pile of rind shoved in a paper towel. Nail bed raw.

Juice dripping from your chin. 

Dribbling. Conquered.