Slaves of Citrus

You caught me 
stealing at dusk
limes from our neighbour’s tree;
they were yellow and cold.

but you with your lilac smile
you dangled, fishing-line easy
pilfering light
from a company of unrisen stars.

I ducked inside
cheeks pink as the froth of clouds
but you smarmied on, 
shameless as Fagan

It's little consolation
knowing we’re both the same
moon tang and mint 
slaves of citrus, thieves in the night

8 thoughts on “Slaves of Citrus

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