orange juice by Rachel Deyis (Lucent Dreaming Issue 12)

To write poetry is to wring truth from an orange
furl your hands so tightly into rind they turn blue,
hear the thudded fall of each kerneled pip into glass
while its juice catches on the lips between those
greedy molecules of air-
perhaps a single drop, turgid and oily
will break out of the tangled pith in slow motion
detonate into twelve, glittering tears
and you might hope one of them lands honestly
into your cup
your words into color
while the scent of citrus clings
to your fingers like skin pressed into
red lines by thread, stings
your nose perpetually
what was lost in between,
what was lost in between
perpetually stings your nose in red lines
that thread into your skin like pressed fingers
clinging to citrus is the scent of color
that unstarves words into your cup,
honestly, lands one of them –
the tears, in glittering twelves
detonating in slow motion the
pith, tangled into a single drop,
oily and turgid
perhaps greedy molecules of air
between lips will
catch its juice-
glass, into each kerneled pip
falls thudded, hears
the blue rind furl into your hands:
from an orange, truth wrung
into poem

Rachel is a first-year undergraduate student from the UAE studying English and Related Literature at the University of York. She is a committee member of the International Anthology Society at York which edits and publishes a yearly anthology. In her spare time she loves reading questionable romance novels and painting decaying figs.
I: @racheldeyis

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Lucent Dreaming is an independent creative writing magazine and book publisher for beautiful, imaginative and surreal fiction, poetry and artwork from emerging authors and artists worldwide. Subscribe to Lucent Dreaming now, support us on Patreon and follow us on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.

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