The Taste of Acid

In my silence, I hear your tears
Painting deserts with acidic tears
that soak the streets
Perhaps I shall lick them dry
To have the taste of you once again

My mind lingers on the
Roughness of your thighs
Against my lonely cheeks, and
I think your taste must be
Tangerines, acidic yes, but
Small and sweet, mildly exotic

And goodbye must feel like
The instant I join your flesh
Surely your sorrow looks
Like the pain, the sweet
Honeyed pain
Of when you gasp at my
Intrusion

I turn from your teardrops
Swim inside my own
My flesh is raw with your nails
Clawing their way from inside
As you, sobbing, pull yourself
From inside me

All the color in the world fades
The way jeans will in
Acid wash
Surely goodbye must taste
As sweet as death

2 Comments

  1. Hanno Phenn says:

    Wonderfully written It would fit to my post.”Wrong answer by asking to get Married.”

  2. Beautiful poem. I like all of except that ‘rough thighs’ seems a bit odd. But maybe it’s a good oddness.

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