The Taste of Words

October 25, 2017






Words
they sustain me
define me
contain me
surround me
and I am always
craving more


 words
while walking the Seine
in the shortgrey days
while passing the time staring at passersby
the warm detachment of a rustic red
wrapped around me
a woolen red scarf
while sitting before you
you between my legs
the buttersoft leather
on my bare breasts

these taste of the deep unctous
chocolate of me
it pools under
my tongue
and
lingers
long
after I swallow

words
while hurling a life
once shared
into garbage bags
into the ramshakled rusted
notion of what could have been
but would never be

these taste of the acrid scald
of bile and spoilt milk
it burns
coming out
going in
heaving
spilling
regret
I was told not to cry over

words
sung to me
while in the shower
you leaned into me
and spoke
breathless
lyrics
into my mouth
I drank these down
not noticing
the water
running
cold

These taste of mango
and angel cake
I lick
my lips
forever
wanting
more

words



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1 comments

  1. "these taste of the acrid scald
    of bile and spoilt milk" Mercy!
    I get a feeling of great anger.
    Thank you. xoA

    ReplyDelete

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