There’s no mural I could paint  
No poem to compose
Not a sinner nor a saint
Who could ever truly show

The depths of my devotion
The desires of my heart
The extent of my emotion  
How my love for you is art

For love and art are tethered
Birthed from pain and hope  
Both beautiful, worn and weathered
A brilliant kaleidoscope

I want the pulp of you
Your stringy white insides
I want the lattice of your creation  
To get stuck in my teeth
I want to savor every sliver of you  
The parts of you that need a warning
The versions left on the shelf
The bits of you that blend in with the fruit
But pack a punch
I want to relish in the chewy remnants of a skin you shed long ago
I want to peel back your orange shell
And taste the tender threads that hold you together
I want to drink your syrupy nectar
To gnaw away the sweet parts
Right down to the rind of you
And swallow the secret pomace of your heart