flavored impression
i was not prepared,
in a state of untamed.
barefoot springtime.
he sat beside me.
black hat. red wine.
have you ever tasted
how someone lingers
prior to touch, i kept
having these ideas.
notions of actual
smooth texture. tasting
early hours. day arriving.
all the while he sang
and i realized –
a flavored impression
within my fear. within
inexpressible. he stayed
in me for more than i am
able to shiver.
my body clenched
perfection. i felt
i was
aware of… how it could
never. not be
something.
i already
taste.