Cherie Mort Poems
Comments about Cherie Mort
I like to smell the sweet scent of lemon juice as I slice thin circles of citrus onto my cutting board, the rind making a soft sssh
sound as my knife separates its layers.
I pick up a round slice of lemon and pop it in my mouth. The taste is so sour that my mouth puckers, making the rest of my face contort as it follows suit. For a moment my face is frozen in a sour expression, slowly decompressing from its painful prison.
The tangy taste of lemon zest still numbs my mouth as I squeeze more lemons and pour the juice into a container half-full of ice. Citrus-scented oil ...
What is it about a tangerine that puts me in a happy mood?
Its orange glowing peel reveals the fruit I want to eat.
Sometimes I toss the tart orb into the sky and pretend it is the sun, shining bright, warm rays onto me.
Other times I roll it back and forth on a desk, feeling its pockmarked flesh against the palm of my hand.
Whenever I sniff the scent of such a small treasure I am transported in my mind to a warmer climate, where the wind whispers foreign tales in your ears and tells you wh