split tangerines

we pass to each other tangerines,
each one smaller than it was in the last pair of hands.
laughter, song, dance,
the tangerine gets smaller and smaller
as it travels the world, splinters off,
pieces making others whole again.

there is now a shortage of tangerines.
no markets sell them, no grocers either.
yet when I look in my living room
and suddenly hear ghosts of my friend's voices,
all the way from 9th grade and 10th grade, and last week
I cant help but notice the tangerine plant
growing full-bloom in the middle of my chest.

(there used to be a shortage of tangerines,
sometimes there still is.
but slowly people are learning to share again
To tell stories, to make art, to love,
Splintering off pieces to make others whole again,
learning to love the tangerines sweet taste once more.)

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