Ritual It’s nighttime. We eat dinner in front of the TV. You on your side of the couch, me on mine. I clear the dishes and pile them by the sink. I ask you if you want anything else. You ask me if we have those little oranges you like. I grab two cold suns from the mesh bag in the fridge. I peel the dimpled skin and place the globes in a white bowl. The scent is sweet and floral, pekoe tea and afternoon sun. I present them to you like a gift. You take the bowl and place it in your lap. Pull one section and guide it to your mouth. So good, you say. I watch you eat and smile, eat and smile. Your fingers dividing your pleasure in 12 equal parts.
Beeper Peddle is a writer and healer living on the East Coast. She lives with her partner and their beloved soul puppy. Beeper writes about sorrows, lies, and deep loves. When you read her work, you will dip down into her heart and end up in all manner of body parts. Should you find yourself reflected in these words, it is merely coincidence; however, it does not surprise her you share the same heart. Find her at bethpeddle.com and @beeperpeddle on Twitter and Instagram
Rae Theodore (she/they) is the author of the poetry chapbook How to Sit Like a Lesbian and the memoirs My Mother Says Drums Are for Boys: True Stories for Gender Rebels and Leaving Normal: Adventures in Gender. Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize. Rae lives in Royersford, Pennsylvania, where she and her wife watch Yellowstone and eat oranges. She is working on an anthology celebrating butch lesbians.
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