Lemon zest is the taste of my past. 

A taste so bitter, I can’t stand to have my tongue in my mouth.

I couldn’t bear being in the presence of someone whose favorite food is lemon pie,

Lemon bars, Lemon cake,

Trying to use sugar to coat the pungent acidity.

I know I can’t get rid of this taste, 

It’s too stubborn to comply. 

I study every recipe book,

Every technique passed down in the family, 

Every touch of spice, 

Just to learn to enjoy lemons. 

You introduced a taste I’d never had the pleasure of enjoying before. 

A taste that goes well with just about anything. 

Even lemons.

Nothing I’ve ever known has shown such unity. 

It’s the kind of taste that makes me want to partake in the cheesy cliches of life.

The kind of taste that makes me feel the way a weed might feel when it’s called a pretty flower,

instead of an ugly nuisance to a beautiful garden. 

A taste so out of this world that I couldn’t imagine a meal without it.

It’s the kind of taste that encourages me to eat something light on a sick day,

or to just rest when it feels like the weight of the world is collapsing on my shoulders. 

A taste that’s a healthy alternative to smoking, drinking, partying, 

but yet more addicting. 

It tastes like everything in the world has finally gone my way,

an accomplished goal I’ve been striving to achieve since I was little, 

the satisfaction of laying in bed after a long and tiring day,

because I deserve it,

and not because I need it. 

Now when I have the taste of lemons in my mouth, 

It feels like an uprising, 

a challenge that I’m no longer afraid to face,

because I have you, 

and your own citrus taste.