NaPo prompt was to explore taste. Although I had expected to write a poem of found words and phrases gleaned from my bus ride, this is what happened instead.

April 27  First come, first served.

Holding a bite between my teeth
sweet’s not the first thing that comes
Flesh that tastes earthy, like venison
supple, like lemon curd.

If the skin punctures a bit
allows my tongue to penetrate
the peel, graze the outer pith
the bitterness of yielded time

May infiltrate the breach,
further the juices of delight
past lips, past throat
a nip of  honeyed prime.

I will devour you indelicate
snack the source of my cravings
the source of my bottomless lust.


April is drawing to a close, NaPoWriMo is screeching toward the exit.  It’s been a wild ride as usual.