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.