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Writer's pictureRedstockings Chronicle

My love


My love, you’re peeled oranges

Sweet and sour, with your bitterness laid away

I dare not utter a word of distaste

As your citrus burns roughly on my lips

And the brightness of your being

Lights up my dreary winter mornings

I speak boldly, how could I not?

For I feel for you, only in bold sentiments

Your existence, your light, blinds even the sun

Then how, I ask you, shall I retain my sight?

Lost and blind, still devoted, I walk through the world

Guided gently, lovingly, by the sweet smell

Of my peeled oranges



- Nandini Dang, Editor-in-chief, RLS

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