Sex Is Like Eating A Lemon Candy

By Emily Criswell

Whispers on cracked tongues 

Split from peach pits –

Lemon candies that have spent

A decade under the eye of God,

Masquerading as the heat

Of a depression glass lamp,

Turning your dime-store treasure

Sticky and soft 

You imagine your first time

Will be like eating a lemon candy,

Sticking to the roof of your mouth,

Pocketing holes in your cheeks

Until you are ready to keep going,

Ready to swallow the sour tart

That sends shivers down your body,

And smile when it sweetens on your tongue – 

Slow and steady, tilt your head back,

Try not to choke when your toes curl – 

They always say it hurts the first time,

Knock back the citron,

Don’t you dare spill a single drop, 

Bite the sugared lemon,

You’re choking, alright,

Gasping on sugared cement – 

Sex is like taking a lemon drop,

Alone in a college bar – drown out the voices

That tell you to enjoy it – pretend to if you can,

The blood of the fruit seeps into cracked hands,

Cold fingers like razors in your belly – 

You think you’re burning alive,

And when you swallow that sludge,

You realize what it truly means to burn – 

When all the light in your shadow

Of a lemon-candy life has finally left, 

A lemon wedge will set you free

Emily Criswell is a sophomore majoring in Creative Writing, with minors in Publishing & Editing and Professional & Civic Writing. She is a poet and enjoys writing historical fiction as well.