Sometimes I’m

Sometimes I’m


Sometimes I’m an orange. I get picked off the tree, peeled and eaten.

Other times I’m a lime. I’m picked, quartered, and squeezed into a sparkling water.

You can also discover me as milk in a cow’s udder. I get drunk by the calf through the teat.

Sometimes, sometimes, I’m magma. I get restless staying underground, and I burst out, land, harden, and spend a a long while outside.

The other day I was a coconut on a palm tree. I fell off and landed on the ground. A person eventually came by and repeatedly tried to break me open on a rock. I slightly cracked, but wouldn’t open. That person gave up and left me on the ground. Some tiny insects crawled on me and drank the moisture of my milk that had escaped from my crack.


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