Shownotes
A daily reading from One Poem Only—a quiet space for a single poem, read aloud.
Tangerines and Alcoholism
Labanya Dey
My mother peels tangerines
Carefully scaling the orange flesh
Until her nails dig into the sour crevices
Of the orange ball
The juices drip between her nails and fingertips
As she puts them on a plate
On a bright afternoon
As she waits for them to be savoured
Appreciated with the delicate eyes she yearns for.
She sits by the table, nails scratching through the skin
The sweet juices bubble through her veins
She sits and waits
Where the threshold loses its colour and the window panes seem blue
She watches the door with careful eyes
At 12:00 when she cleans up her day
The corpses of red headed flies with sweetness sticking in their tongues
Lay beside the musk amber of leftover liquid
Smiling at her - "you couldn't even keep him"
So she keeps, her orange peels and her whiskey scent
And sunny days with dark afternoons
And vibrant smiles with leftover tangerines
Drowned with glistening, golden bubbles of life and laughter
Because my mother peels tangerines
Whether seasons meet their end
Or the waves meet the earth.
More from Labanya Dey ↓
- @labanyaaa._ on Instagram
- @yapseshs on Substack
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