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 ↓

1. @labanyaaa._ on Instagram
2. @yapseshs on Substack

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