The Lemon
This ball of citrusy sunshine
Dangles in the air, dancing,
Mingling against the leafy green.
Pluck it from the arm cradling it,
Feeling the supple yellow flesh
That rolls about in you hands.
Feel your body moan,
As you swear you’re tasting
The meringue of tomorrow’s pie.
Imagine the juice trickling
From a sliver of the sun
Impaled on a frosted glass.
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