Battle is eminent,
My fingers feeling the bumpy, porous skin know this.
The skin is the enemy, my nemesis.
Cruel, firm, unyielding, it guards
The sweet citrus prize.
Battle has begun,
My fingers clawing the bumpy, porous skin know this.
The surface is difficult to penetrate.
I hook a tiny section
And draw the first blood.
Battle is raging,
My fingers tearing away chunks of the skin know this.
They feel the skin resist, then give, then tear off.
Bolstered by acidic scents,
I fight tooth and nail.
Battle is won,
My tongue savoring the pulp and juices knows this.
My teeth chew the pulp and seeds of the spoils.
The juice tastes sweet, tart, acidic,
Like true victory.