The Orange

The voice, realizing it was forever lost,

shouts into a bottle and quickly seals itself.

Cleverly, it elects burial at sea.

The voice tastes plasma tinged with electricity and velour. 

There is no expectation, only a recurring dream,

(without awareness that dreams can be interpreted).

The voice imagines the girl at the back of the class would

someday swallow it.  Together they could overcome

grandmothers’ words: “you are basically good”,

hesitation between the syllables in “basically” to inflict

optimal pain.

The voice in its shiny glass coffin crests and falls while

The girl at the back of the class marks her time silently.

One day, an orange touches the bottle and seems to want to

stay nearby.  The orange mumbles something the voice does

not understand.

The voice wonders if the orange chose its fate too, then chides

itself at the idea of orange consciousness.

Finally, the weight of waiting causes the bottle to sink.  Once at

the bottom, the voice lets out one final shattering scream.

The barnacles take no notice as the plankton move with the

current.