from Look at All the Little Hurts of These Newly-Broken Lives and the Bittersweet, Sweet, and Bitter Loves
The Shed Cicada’ed-Skins of The Properly Peeled Orange
Baby doesn’t always eat the orange’s casings.
When all the pulped-out innards have been scraped out and swallowed, he pushes the moth hulls from behind his teeth, and leaves the skins behind in the bowl.
___
It has been days, months, and so many other things have happened since then.
The man who used to be something to the woman is an asker. He has found that without telling, he doesn’t hold much power over much of anything at all. He is a nothing man. And a nothing man is a man who discovers all of their lacks without several someones around them to fill their voids.
Baby is now the Big Man of the newer, bigger house.
The woman who used to be something to the man is willing to lose herself further. Not just the marriage. The older, smaller home. But also, to lose her before mind, in faith that something better will be found at the right time, with the right therapist. It is the first choice that she has made solely for herself in a very long while.
___
In the bowl that has been brought to the newer, bigger house. Days, and months later, the woman sees the clear casings, and screams.
She calls them shedded cicada skins and see-through crispies, like scabs that have been left out in the sun.
Not too long ago, it had been a pulpy-plumped petal-fingered flower, all tangerined-orange and bright, and had fit so perfectly in her Baby’s palm.
They have chosen not to remember what the orange used to be, because they are doing their best to move on with all the newfound-breaks of their newly- broken lives. They cannot afford to remember what was, only what is, and what could now be.
___
“Big Man,” ex-wife, mommy, she says. “I have told you not to...” her words going into, “Come on and throw this away!”
She has a stronger voice than before, Big Man notes, and he likes it a lot. It makes him feel that though he is the Big Man, now, he can still be a boy, be mommy’s son.
The skins shake in their bowl, muscle jump like a dead man who knows that he is dead but doesn’t want to die, and tries to spark the heart back beating.
Nobody cares about the orange, still, not even Big Man, anymore.
Even he has forgotten how it had once held such a sweetly-scented place in all of their lives.