May 10, 2022
 |  26 Comments

I curse strawberries when the clouds are in sight;
more so, for giving me
a taste of something wild and sweet,
they remind me of bourbon, of bullets
and Bukowski,
they remind me that softer sighs are only the
beginning.

How to eat a strawberry? First, inhale deeply—
feel the intricate weave of emotions
held taut by reserve,
as though a poem stripped down raw,
next, take a bite and delve with incisors,
if we must fall, then let it be
with a softness born of hushed rain and twilight,
I am caught in its merciless unraveling.

Eat it with sugar or spice or cream;
but bear in mind, that once it treads through
the cavern black there’s no escape—
its promise of a perfect summer is decades old,
repeated over and over again
while one is beguiled by flavour and reduced
to monosyllable, tell me,
what am I to do with this longing for more?

I have gone a little far this time;
stepped forward to study his features chiseled,
his eyes upturned, dark and lovely,
covering my own in a roseate glaze,
the things I write after midnight are not just poetry;
they are confessions
embodying the freedom of wind
and silence of deserts— both sumptuous and curious,
both heat and cold that slips into the heart,
who knew that a missing part of me was in actuality
a part of you?
Who knew that fruit would flow rhythmically in my veins?
I curse strawberries when the clouds are in sight.

 

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Misky is our guest host at dVerse, where she invites us to write food poetry.
Come join us! 💝

Posted for Poetics: Bon Appetit ~ Food Poetry @dVerse Poets Pub