zesty

i’ve always liked the orange starbursts best by michelle agaron

call me an aquarian contrarian nonsectarian,
but i was five and already reaching 
for acidity in place of placidity,
delaying that blessed sweetness 
for the tangy appeal of Sacrifice, 
gorging on my empty stomach.

call me a late bloomer should’ve known sooner
but i am twenty and only just learning,
zest is not another word for delayed 
gratification and punishment 
is not the same as strength.

i’ve always liked the orange starbursts best:
something about their zest
something about this life
something about becoming
the zest
     coursing 
             through
                    this little life.

zest (a sestina) by eva gelman

there’s beauty, of course 
in lemons. even the bitter 
limes. but there are 
sweeter things, too 
ripe grapefruit we indulge 
in & clementines in winter. 

today, you woke up to winter 
up north. the seasons run their course 
while i indulge 
in autumn’s bitter 
sweetness, the feeling of missing you a day too 
long. my insides stretch & ache to be where you are. 

where you are 
is away, it’s winter 
& you, too 
indulge in me. of course 
all we have is voices, frozen images. inside us - a bitter 
longing that we feed & care for & indulge. 

our phones indulge 
us. my loneliness indulges us. where you are 
sweet, i’m bitter 
& some days, i want to take your winter 
& bring it to me. where it deserves to be. of course 
there are other days, too. 

on those days, i’m sugar on a lemon slice, & you worry that it is all too
much to last. too sweet to indulge 
in & too good to miss. we hold each other’s names close. we let it run its course.
at times we notice how fast days are 
passing. how close we are to our together winter. 
other times, the days mock us. our sweetness makes them bitter. 

we take turns in bitter-
ness. you, too 
can be as cold. when winter 
comes, i’ll build a fire. a makeshift bed. a million space heaters & my skin. i will indulge
in knowing that you know how deeply you are 
loved & how i love you. & maybe then, the winter will run its course. 

or maybe it won’t. maybe the winter lingers, & the bitter-
ness of cold, the sweetness too, of course, of touch & care. the sweetness, too.
the sweetness we indulge in & let indulge in us. sweetness, we are.