Froward

froward \FROH-werd\, adjective:
not easily managed; contrary

I saw your mind as an orange today. The outer layer rough and tough and weather-worn but relatively easy to pull away - after a puncture. I stuck my fingernails through and I pulled it back bit by bit, turning the globe over in my hands, creating orange masses of islands and continents, which also eventually were torn away, leaving only the ocean of pasty whiteness, that unnamed substance. Even with the tough casing gone, I still couldn't get at the inside of it, but I could smell it, could feel it when I added pressure and squeezed just a little. But I didn't want to break it. I wanted to strip that skin off, get to the fruit inside. So I tenderly picked at unseen seams until they gave, and it felt like paper does when you rip it from side to side, along its grain - satisfying. I did this until all that was left was the tiniest membrane between me and the millions of tiny bubbles of juice that are held together in what we call an orange, just waiting to be bitten.