the orange

I looked at the orange and
It looked back
with its smooth
polished
waxy
porous
slightly blemished
skin

I smelled the orange and
It smelled confident
squeezing bursts of
citrusy fragrance
into the air
filling the space
with
bold
citrusy
presence

I felt the orange and
It felt solid
brave
guarding its
juicy
tender
fleshy
vulnerable
heart
behind
thick skin

I heard the orange and
It heard me wonder
why I had never stopped to
look at
smell
feel
hear
an orange
before

I tasted the orange

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