What have I got in my Handses?

When one door slams shut, almost slicing off the tips of your fingers in the process, you don't notice any other doors.  You're so busy nursing your bruised fingers and trying to kick in that one closed door that you almost fail to see the half dozen other doors quietly opening on either side. 

There's a complicated interplay of light and shadow on the tiled floor.  The merest whisper of a soft breeze tickles the nape of your neck.  There's a rustling as of thousands of young trees shaking their branches. 

Tentatively you approach the nearest open door and hesitate --  but only for a second.  Crossing the threshold, you take a deep breath; feel your lungs expand. Colour and light flood your retina.

And then you see it.  The thing that you thought you'd lost.  It's right there, sitting in the palm of your hand.  You can almost taste its citrus tang on your tongue.  You bite down hard, wantonly letting the juice run down your chin ...

♥

And, before you say it, the answer is NOT 'penis'.  Try again!