Against my fingers you feel rubbery and strange
and there is a tiny bump, like a wart on one side
which I want to call an imperfection
but it is exactly as it is meant to be.
I am fascinated, by the variegations
that span the alien-smooth scentless pod
I had mistaken you for a solid lime green
but there are a thousand shades
Not just of green, but almost yellow
especially along the seam where your halves make you whole
and approaching midnight blue
inside the darkest flecks of your skin.
And to my hands, you seem to have rubbery skin
and the leftover shriveled petals of your flowers fragile,
against my lips and nose you are
unmistakably plant.
Perhaps this is the manifestation of your specific makeup
the walls that hold your cells tightly together
compacted, and built like bricks to so perfectly lack
the imperfections of which we animals are comprised.
So I know that the small bump
which tickles my lip slightly
and which is near the paler yellow racing stripe of your spine
is perfect.
At one tip is the beginning of a spiral
which mimics the shape of the curl of stem
still attached to your point of origin
and it reminds me of sleep and languor.
Breaking open one side, is a sound like cracked knuckles
and an almost mechanical peel,
revealing inner juice and glisten
and the smell of green growing things.
My nose is confused, when I pull you close
confusing your own spicier smell
with the heady aroma of mint
which I squeezed making iced tea earlier.
You seem reluctant to be opened
most tightly fused where it seems you ought to split
and instead you peel open in a spiral
with a slight hollow echoing pop.
Contrary to expectation, the peas inside are vaguely square
and a few shades lighter, and more evenly colored than their case
but they too are divided into halves
even at the hilum, which looks like a pair of beak.
Each seed lacks a smell, until it is broken, and then carries
the echo of the smell of the pod.
They taste raw, fresh, green, dusty, wet, and woody all at once.
Leaving my mouth feeling a little rough and unfamiliar.
Held up to the light, the emptied pods have distinct veins
darker patterns and internal shadows
and they look so very alive.
The remaining funiculi look like octopus suckers.
The shell tastes similar and distinct from the peas
jucier, sweeter, and lacking any raw unfinished flavor.
They taste exactly how they smell, wild and growing
So perfectly green that I have forgotten how to eat.
I bit my tongue.
Practicing mindfulness while eating peas. I really like peas.