Blood Orange

While aunties and uncles surround you with chatter,

you expertly mix my blood through your batter;

piping calculated swirls into hot oil to deep fry,

making Jelabies, for your friends to try.

Soaking in sugar syrup, ready to eat,

Perfect, sweet daughter, even overly sweet!

Was it the saffron that resulted in the orange colour?

Or the sadness and pain she was made to suffer?

Oh well, now she’s been fried in hot oil,

set well, to taste, don’t let her disembroil!

Oh generous people, oh happy community,

“Share her with everyone!” says parental impunity.

“We love you darling, we want what’s best for you.

But fuck you darling, your individuality and talents we don’t value.

Fit into the system, come on, squeeze harder

Amputate the parts of you that hold you back! I am your father!”


Physically raised in the suburbs, quite the outsider;

emotionally formed in a hadron collider.

You provided just enough oxygen to keep me from combusting,

like the flame of a candle; restricted, adjusting.


My feelings are tiny particles of cold, dry dust;

fragmented, insignificant, full of mistrust.

They fled far up into the Northern hemisphere,

dispersing when wolves take bites of thin air,

quietly relocating as they fall to the ground,

becoming part of the earth, safe and sound.

Eons from now, when they cut into the rock,

utilising nature as a clock,

surpassing the Cretaceous-Paleogene boundary line,

they’ll see a bright orange line; one that was mine.


So tomorrow morning, after you’ve polished your shoes,

packed your lunch and read the news,

say goodbye to your wife, tell her to have a nice day,

that you’ll see her later and to call if she needs anything on your way.

She’ll tell you to say something nice to your daughter.

Her pillow is once again drenched with grieving water.

The shape of your hands  reddened on her skin,

giving her what she deserved for her sins.


But don’t verbally communicate that you love her,

except when you need to explain why you beat her.

Reach out to touch her head to show that you care.

But don’t forget to wash your hands on your way out

though nobody could see it, there was blood everywhere.


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