“Lately I can taste you on my tongue.”
Does my taste linger in your mouth like
your smell haunts my breath for hours after kissing
you goodbye in the morning?
It isn’t the coffee you drank with your oatmeal
I microwaved for you, or the sprinkle of brown sugar
or honey I laced in the rolled oats after with pea milk.
Does my swaying hips tickle your teeth
hours later when you lick your lips remembering
how they moved against your chin?
It isn’t the cologne you spray against your chest
“to get the fragrance out there with my sweat”
or the brave bicep that cuts against my shoulder when you hug me goodbye.
Does my taste linger against your smile
like your touch whispers secrets against
my neck at work when I’m reading forms and toying
with my strays?
**I’m really proud of this poem. It does some things I don’t normally do, and combines elements that I generally don’t smash together. I happy with this one. Might refine it a little more, but yeah. Happy. What do you think?**