Lemons and Limes
Navaris Darson 

I. Lemons

I have in my possession
a gold nugget mined
from your digital stream.

“Lemons” is your favorite word.

Plural not singular.
And yes, it matters.
You are that particular.

When I whisper the word
into your ear,
you pull back and stare.

“What? Why did you say that?”

I too pull back and stare,
baffled by your confusion.

I have spoken to you of love—
what is there to not understand?

II. Limes

We sit on my couch eating popcorn
with nutritional yeast and lime juice
and a little dash of salt and pepper—
one of your out-there ideas.

When you first proposed this,
I arched my brow, skeptical,
but now, I scoop popped kernels 
by the handfuls—not too proud 
to admit I was wrong.

Earlier, in the kitchen, I took 
one of the limes you halved,
and biting into the pulp inside,
I squeezed the juice into my mouth.

You stared at me in shock—
How could I do such a thing!?

“It’s just fruit” I said, 
but you shook your head. 

You can handle the juice,
but not the entire lime.

Now, as we eat the popcorn,
I only taste the added zest,
and it never occurs to me
that limes can be something sour.

November 17, 2019