Citrus
a covetous, fleeting love affair with April
By Erin Latham SheaPublished 3 years ago • Updated 3 years ago • 1 min read
Photo by Vesela Vaclavik on Unsplash
We're both naked, unabashed, peeling citrus fruits.
The windows are open. We eat greedily with bare, curved spines. Stiff knees.
His remaining paper towels are put to use: a sachet for the peels and a half-hearted cover for the wet sheets. We giggle and point. True intimacy is almost childlike.
He tells me he's begun to believe in an afterlife of opportunity. Transformation.
I put my finger to his lips - a desperate deflection. I grab his bearded chin in protest.
"Don't say that. Don't make me think there's more. This is it. Promise me this is it!"
About the Creator
Erin Latham Shea
Assistant Poetry Editor at Wishbone Words
Content Writer + Editor at The Roch Society
Instagram: @somebookishrambles
Bluesky: @elshea.bsky.social



Comments (2)
I love how you've captured a single moment so beautifully. Great description!
“True intimacy is almost childlike.” Yes!! You captured that feeling here so well 💖