Grass. Lemon Grass.

     He was just freshly handsome. He was wearing a light green suit with yellow hem. He wasn't that tall, but he was quite reasonable of a height of his kind. I found something extremely exotic and exciting in him.
     He smelled really good. His scent reminded me of the lemony Sundays back in the time, spent at my grandma's, drinking lemonade.
     We met at a picknick in the Punctuation Park on a mid-March day in 2011. The moment I beheld his attractive self was the moment of realisation: love at first sight.
      I wasn't quite happy with the pink pants he was wearing under his green coat, but I could forgive him easily, because he was so charming.
     His name was Lemon. Lemon Grass. What a lovely name from such a plantleman. He must have derived from a healthy and wealthy soil. Plantae. That was the country. His family went by the name Lamiaceae, but he didn't apprechiate people generalizing him with his notorius family, so he just used this fresh and breathtaking name, Lemon. Unfortunately we didn't have more than an hour and a half to spend together, but I have seen him several times around ever since, and I can't wait to see his magnetive... in fact seductive looks that caught my eye on that mid-March day again...