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Lemon-ode

Bright sunflower skin, lightly textured, a beautiful egg and when its shell is cracked the soft silk mist fills the air with a sharp sweet scent
Underneath the first golden layer is a creamy white plain of daisies, deeper still and fingers meet flesh ripping and tearing away skin and daises for the last sweet flower brimming over with its fragrant fleshy juices a sharp tang, mouth wrenching eye watering, but cloying as well And as the flesh is ripped further thin membranes break seeds burst forth from their moist prison.

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The lemonless lemon poem.

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