They had thin arms and basketballs
Jokes and jackstones
I only had my lunch box

They were eating together
I was alone

Across me
A riff of tables and chairs
There were my classmates
Exchanging butterscotch
Their laughter rang

In the white sound, I could not even speak because
Love never needed to talk
It just needed to create sense in my mouth
My mouth was full. Stuffed with the tanginess of gravy
This is why lonely is my bliss
Grow
Fat but I belong

Math homework
(the hell is a rational zero?
are some throwing tantrums?)
and a glass bowl of yogurt which I’m eating
even though my fingers are cold,
since I’m too lazy to get a sweater.
Mundane moments
a dime a dozen,
but I’m trying to wrap myself in them anyway;
I don’t know,
there’s something comforting in
slowing down the world,
as if it’ll make my life a little more
worth living
if I pause to appreciate
the delicate tanginess
of off-brand Mexican dairy.

I go back in time
as I get a whiff of some familiar scent.

Like the aroma of spices from my mother’s pulao —- the blend of bay leaves, cinnamon, black cardamom and cloves
that left eyes sparkling in anticipation of a royal meal.

Or the scent of fruits
that made their way into my lunch at school - bananas, apples, grapes, oranges
along with an embroidered napkin
that held onto the smell of the season, the love of parents and the comfort of home.

The tanginess of lemons in my father’s cologne —- a burst of summer every time I opened his closet.

The fragrance of roses from incense sticks that my grandmother would light as she prayed —
the mysticism of life in her folded hands.
The smoke would rise from the sticks, curling, to reach heaven along with her prayers -
and I would look upward wondering if God could hear her songs and smell the roses.

The heady scent of rain and earth as we played in puddles
walking and slipping
splashing and laughing
lost in the moment
hearts as light as those drops of rain.

A whiff of these and I travel back in time
I miss the innocence
and melange of those
happy scents and aromas.

It seems like a different world.
And though far away —
It seems like yesterday.

When it comes to confectionary art
I simply cannot look beyond a lemon ****
It is a pure piece of absolute delight
As soon as it touches my tongue everything just feels right
The tension in my stomach seems to cease
And my mind feels at peace
Just an explosion of incredible flavours as it spreads all over my tongue
The incredible combination of sweetness and tanginess...
....oh man...it's *******!
I love chocolates
But if i had to pick one thing i could eat before i die...
....it would have to be a lemon ****
For chocolate fulfills my heart
But a lemon **** fulfills every inch of my existence

Standing in the supermarket line
Pacing up and down the aisle
Colored boxes collecting in your cart
As you struggle to select
And then you choose me.
Who can blame you?
I tempt you with my tanginess
I ****** you with my sparkles
I beguile you with glitter
I fascinate you with fizz
For I know how to appeal
To those who are captivated by stars.
But be weary;
Effervescence is ephemeral
And stars disappear in daytime
My bubbly bliss ending
In a bittersweet goodbye
Nothing good lasts for long
The magic always momentary
And as quickly as I am everything
I become nothing to you
But a shiny shell of aluminum
Better suited in a blue bin
Thanks for the memories
I hope you taste lime when
You see me.

I read somewhere when we let our defenses down we become ordinary,  
        the simplification of self allows us to transform into a transparent being; fully able to allow in divinity and shine light into the world.

your kisses on my neck caused a chain reaction that ended with my head falling back; off the pillow, shedding my defenses, sinking into you
     your touch can do that
          strip me down to my elements and raise what's raw and primal into sanctity
  
If awareness is impossible when when are heads are caught up with life's illusions of control, ensnared in self-imagine; your ability to
        erase my ego brought me to a higher awareness than I've ever known.

The hallmark of spirituality is the softening of ones' soul then on a Sunday not so long ago an atheist and a non-religious came together,
        finding church within, and on, one another
  so why, and for what possible, highest good reason can the persecution of pleasure; the embraced reverence of each other, be the wisest course for humanity?
    In concert with one another barriers of self fell in the creation of an us; elevating and excavating urgent tenderness from my soul. A process that, in every sense of the word, was divine
     Still religious takes this holey exchange and demands our atonement.
         You want a confession.

Here's what I'll confess.
    The union of him and I, the earthy tanginess of desire, brought my soul closer to 'God' than any bible verse
                   so following the logic of keeping faith simple I'll to church, just not before your alter
  instead I'll allow my soul to soften in the arms of a lovely irreligionist, naked and unashamed
  ordinary, transparent, and in the greatest good of us; of my essence, of me
    It makes me smile because the universal flow, as I know them, would smile at the tragic irony of how our humanness made something so simple, instinctive, automatic as coming together into a shame shrouded sin
   causing a fall from grace, instead of into Grace.