You'll forget the taste of the sun
when night comes. And the night
will come as a thin veil of darkness
thrown over an unlit room.
Careful not to trip over these
orange globes. You regret to say
that sugar is no longer a necessity
to induce happiness, but a threat
that intoxicates. Missing the warmth,
you unpeeled one, swallowing in slices
the shine of the sun. They sit silent,
the tangerines scattered on the floor,
still, unmoving, cold to the touch
waiting to hear the remains of your story