Virginia Adair

Peeling an OrangeBetween you and a bowl of oranges I lie nudeReading The World__ Illusion through my tears.You reach across me hungry for global fruit,Your bare arm hard, furry and warm on my belly.Your fingers pry the skin of a naval orangeReleasing tiny explosions of spicy oil.You place peeled disks of gold in a bizarre patternOn my white body. Rearranging, you bend and biteThe disks to release further their eager scent.I say __top, you__e tickling,_ my eyes still on the page.Aromas of groves arise. Through green leavesGlow the lofty snows. Through red lipsYour white teeth close on a translucent segment.Your face over my face eclipses The World__ Illusion.Pulp and juice pass into my mouth from your mouth.We laugh against each other__ lips. I hold my bookBehind your head, still reading, still weeping a little.You say __ead on, I__ just an illusion,_ rollingOver upon me soothingly, gently unmoving,Smiling greenly through long lashes. And soonI say __on__ stop. Don__ disillusion me.__nows melt. The mountain silvers into many a stream.The oranges are golden worlds in a dark dream.