on saturdays, my grandparents would treat me to this deliciousness: helado de limon. we would go to downtown toluca (specifically – la alameda), park our car in front of the tiny “adios, mi presumida” stand and order ourselves up a scoop (or two) of this icy goodness – in a cone. i just figured out that there are no words to describe the taste of the cone. all i know is that the combination of the two – ice cream and cone – made my mouth rejoice. it’s been rumored that the clouds in heaven taste just like this (sorry to those who don’t like lime or are repulsed by the thought of eating food off the streets of mexico).

so, i wrote a little poem about this ice cream about a year ago and i wanted to share it with you. (you have no idea how many disclaimers i want to add about my poetry writing skills, but i will stay true to my purpose of this blog by just letting them be what they are)  

so, here it is:

Lemons limones sugary ice melting inside the crunchy cone pieces falling onto

the side of my lips tasting the memories of sitting in the crisp cold air of Toluca

biting down into the sweetness of my childhood inhaling the altitude grasping

my breath my lungs carrying the constant exhilaration of being me of being

happy in dirty streets cars honking people walking lovers kissing

unfastening my eyes to see the details of their hands caressing

squeezing their passion remembering so that one day I will

know when it is love and smiling swallowing the end of

the cone the best part my grandmother’s hand

reaching down towards mine looking both ways

to cross wanting to stay in the swirling

air blowing around and around

till I’m dizzy with thoughts

of one day some day and

laughing the two of us

hand in hand.