Blood Orange
she remains hidden and alone
unexplored gold
the color of a budding marigold
aglow like a vivid citrine gemstone,
then endures a metamorphosis
she sheds like a sweet reptilian
as if her gild was lulled off by Morpheus
divulging a fluid fleshy vermilion,
just as sudden as she bloomed came her end
leaving behind her wrinkled apricot rind
This poem is about:
Me
Guide that inspired this poem:
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: