Lima

She says it tastes like a lime without the acid. She looks sad, disappointed by her not sweet, not sour, exotic Mexican fruit from the Farmer's Market.

I want to try it, too. I take a small slice and bring it to my mouth. It is not like a lime.

This lima is mildly sweet, with these delicate, almost secret flavors. Secret flowers and the scents of some far-off Mexican garden creep into the pulp. They don't explode on the tongue. If you are patient, they bloom, mostly on the back of the tongue, like those tea leaf bouquets at fancy Japanese joints that unfold in hot water and infuse the teapot. Notes of jasmin and lavender sit on my tongue and make my whole mouth feel lighter, a little tingly, like how the lining of my skin seems to blend a little more into my surroundings after a few drinks, so that the separation between my body and my environment blurs a little and I'm not sure where one starts and the other begins.

It's like white pepper. She says basil, and I understand that popping then numbing feeling you get when drink good peppery chai. The lima pulp pops but doesn't explode. It's less feisty than other citrus, and the juice spreads.. and numbs you gently.. and it is not like a lime.. and I like it.. and I want to try it again..

...and then I wonder.

( How much of this am I pulling out of my ass?)


-La