Apr 1, 2008

Lemon Drops, L.Singer

Lemon Drops
by Liz Singer

My head is a lemon,
full of sour thoughts
that squeeze out
onto dry, cracked lips.

As I squint and release,
the last drops slip.

Yellow tears fall
on raw, white hands
and lemon drops glow
from my red fingernails.

They shimmer and shine,
leading to my future.
Her stolen air breathes
life into me and I inhale.

Cheeks singe and eyes sting,
but no more tears can pour
from the dried up slits.

I can’t make my squinted face
smile yet- not till the sour taste
is gone. But soon I’ll expel
the last lemon drops and breathe,
because she knows I can.