Oranges
Oranges can't fill
Can't fill in
Fill in the hole
The hole shaped like you
Like you would never leave
But you left a bag of oranges behind
I crushed them in my tiny, metal fingers
I am a cold being darling
You left me all behind
Jenkins and LaHaye style
Jesus jumping Jesus I say Christ
How horrible
Every tumor hole I fill with a ripe orange
knowing its rotting story
and knowing your tendencies
and mine as well
well deep
well shaped holes
wells of orange deposit
I planted a tree in a too deep hole
in our backyard
Thought you might come back for it
Sent a postcard
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