Juice

Tangerine juice spills down my chin

I’m staring, mouth open in wonderment

At the way the sun is shining through the glass

Dancing across your skin as you move through the room

Spinning, sending your orange scent

to dance under my nostrils

Pulling my body into the light

The sun catches on your eyes, citrine

Suddenly, we are still

I’m still holding my juice

Made fresh by your hands

It drips from my chin, a punctuation

What would you have me do?

Lay here in the sun all day?

Would you not? She asks, curious

And so we lay, our breakfast untouched in the sun