Blood Oranges
written by: Carmen Frech Oliveri
I want to write to those,
whose skin peels, like blood oranges.
Who feel uncharted.
This day,
repaired,
but aftertime, like silence
again broken.
I want to write,
to those,
who are yet to meet themselves,
passing themselves by, like words,
jolting each other.
Those,
afraid of their own stories, like children,
with their heads, warm on my neck.
Since I feel,
something waiting for them, a light,
flaring,
in the jet black night.
Since I feel, she can no longer hide, like the day rising,
she must bare herself, as she is,
eat once more, the dark flesh.
“My soul was a naked bird, over the trees, it smiled in silence.”
I am happy to rejoin the world of poetry, after so many years of silence. We all know that a little bit of ourselves lives and breathes in every single written word. Thank you kindly for reading.
I am happy to rejoin the world of poetry, after so many years of silence. We all know that a little bit of ourselves lives and breathes in every single written word. Thank you kindly for reading.
Latest posts by Carmen Frech Oliveri (see all)
- Blood Oranges - November 13, 2025
- Hush Now - July 25, 2025
- Yours - April 10, 2025
