I Found a Mandarin in My Bed

I changed my bedsheets and found a mandarin, my second
name these days is Mandarin.
It’s in my blood. Sometimes I can peel off 
my very own skin. The other day
I got a whole crate of them.

My mandarins,
their roundness comprises the world.
One could say I also stuff myself,
eat multiple worlds. They make me bouncy.
I try peeling mandarins without breaking the loop,

keeping them whole. I know some people
spread their skin in pieces, shaping flowers
pointing in all directions.
One time I couldn’t finish peeling in one
go, so I ate every single slice from the peel.

Tongue scrapes on bitterness,
and parts get stuck between my teeth.
After I suck out the juice, all that is left
is their see-through skin,
the second layer.