A lemon growing in the woman I love. The sweetest lemon there ever was. Still isn’t too sweet. But growing two feet. And butterfly wings. When the woman I love finally settles in at night. You water that lemontree just right, and she’ll expand your definition of love. And. Grow you lemons. Well, grape turned pomegranate turned lime then lemon and so on. Plus two arms to sew on. Isn’t that impressive? This lemon can put on its own buttons. And zipper up vertebrae galore. Seam ripper the skin between fingers. And longarm till short arms grow sore.
To be clear I have never liked lemons before.
Now, I admit, I just hadn’t met the right lemon yet.