From blossoms
 released
 by the moonlight,
 from an
 aroma of exasperated
 love,
 steeped in fragrance,
 yellowness
 drifted from the lemon tree,
 and from its planetarium
 lemons descended to the earth.

 Tender yield!
 The coasts,
 the markets glowed
 with light, with
 unrefined gold;
 we opened
 two halves
 of a miracle,
 congealed acid
 trickled
 from the hemispheres
 of a star,
 the most intense liqueur
 of nature,
 unique, vivid,
 concentrated,
 born of the cool, fresh
 lemon,
 of its fragrant house,
 its acid, secret symmetry.

 Knives
 sliced a small
 cathedral
 in the lemon,
 the concealed apse, opened,
 revealed acid stained glass,
 drops
 oozed topaz,
 altars,
 cool architecture.

 So, when you hold
 the hemisphere
 of a cut lemon
 above your plate,
 you spill
 a universe of gold,
 a
 yellow goblet
 of miracles,
 a fragrant nipple
 of the earth's breast,
 a ray of light that was made fruit,
 the minute fire of a planet.