I Peel Oranges with Calloused Hands

Annika Rennaker

Peeling oranges with calloused hands over a sink, in a kitchen lit dimly— citrus salve coats old wounds.

Breathe in, the warmth of orange and cardamom simmering on a stove, swirling up in the air of a kitchen lit dimly, where sitting at a wooden countertop, eating orange slices from a paper napkin, it feels as though time is fleeting before you can process your existence at all, except on Sundays, when you forget to breathe, and orange pulp wedges itself between your teeth, filling gaps in your memories with something sweet—

Brush my hair, mother please, braid it back and whisper to me gently, “You have time”

“You have time”

You peel oranges, and drink wine— You are ten, and you are twenty— You are sick, and you are dying— i’m sick as hell but i’ve got to go wait by the phone for some reason i’m walking down the stairs to sit on the porch to wait for your call don’t know how i got here or why i stay here in my chair but it’s not fair maybe it’s the change in the seasons but i’ve started pulling out my hair and i hardly care and what a drawn out rhyme scheme all in an attempt to write you into a theme. but either way the phone doesn’t ring, or i don’t hear it, or you don’t call it it’s all in the content of your words and the way you smile or the look in your eyes, “this guy,” i say as i roll my eyes but it’s all a disguise and i think i’m pretty fucking smart cause i write a couple lines that contain a few rhymes while i wait for a call as it gets colder as it gets darker and i know that i’m supposed to be smarter than this but i don’t give a shit. i guess it’s easier to wait when i get a little angry kick the phone off the hook i don’t even want you to fucking call me. now my lungs are tight and my chest is heavy guess i’ll smoke another cigarette just to air things out and open things up like i thought i’d do right before i hung up here i am two days later i guess i’ve lost the thread don’t know what i would’ve said i don’t even feel as sick in the head. it comes and goes like that my hair grows back i dial the numbers into the phone and my head is nestled between your chin and collarbone.

In a kitchen lit dimly, a glass slips from distracted fingers and in the fall, it is two things that break.

A dog licks red wine from the linoleum floor of a kitchen lit dimly.