Friday, October 8, 2010

I Still Don't Know How You Taste

"I still don't know how you taste."
Like summer rain,
fresh like a mojito
with extra lime.
Like creme soda, rich vanilla
with an effervescence
tickling your tongue.
Salty as evening sea air,
moist on the lazy breeze, brushing
your hair from your face.

"I still don't know how you taste."
Like the bitterness of a broken heart,
malt vinegar coating soft, fleshy potatoes,
warm and glowing golden.
Like sharp English cheddar
melted with cream, served over toast
warming you inside out.
Rich as espresso at dusk
dark reflecting the light, which
speckles the night.

"I still don't know how you taste."
Like the Aurora Boriales,
lights, hot sulfur springs in the night.
Like sun dried chipotles, smoky, hot, hinting
of sweet fruit, beneath smoldering embers.
Angry as the voices trapped in bone dry timbers,
ready for the spark, that sets them free.

"Still, I don't know how you taste."


  1. This is a gorgeous and evocative poem, full of delightful images. Bravo.