I’d split an orange with you.
Everyone knows segmented fruits were made for two.
How nice to eat as we wend
Down scenic paths across the bend,
Sharing something sweet with a friend.
I can’t eat this orange by myself.
But I also can’t watch it sit there on my shelf.
High up there, it runs too hot.
While I watch, it starts to rot,
A bittersweet reminder of the sweetness I forgot.
That orange makes me sad, I won’t lie.
If I’m not careful looking at it, I might cry.
It feels like a sin unsaid,
That what’s perfectly segmented
Should lie in my lonesome hand like lead.
I’d split anything with you.
Forget one, I miss being part of a two.
I don’t care the what or when,
I just want to hear your voice again.
So take a slice and tell me how you’ve been.