Juicy splatters run down my hands in the sink

Juicy splatters run down my hands in the sink,

a moment of freedom, no time to think.

Bright citrus pools as laughter floats near,

a taste of rebellion, both sweet and sincere.

Each peel is a whisper, a burst of delight,

while echoes of laughter carry us through night.

I let the juice drip, a cascade so bold,

like stories unfolding, too juicy to hold.

With each messy bite, I reclaim all my youth,

as fragments of innocence drown in the truth.

The sink catches fragments of sweetness and mess,

reminders that life’s best in its purest excess.