I love lemon
but only when I know
it's something sour
I'm getting into.
When I want an apple
and instead the bitterness
tricks me and worms itself
into my mouth
I am not amused.
For far too long
I was the lemon's fool-
begging for sweetness
and getting only puckered.
I am ashamed
and disgusted
not with the thing that is
being only what it knows
to be
but for how I allowed myself
to carry on
foolishly
like a daily beaten dog.
I was not your mistake,
lemon,
you were mine.
I tried everything;
baking you,
drinking you,
crushing you,
but my kitchen
was never home to you.
So now
all there's left to do
is be done with you.
I sit in my shade
enjoying my nectarine,
how sweet it is.
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