ground down from the heart
of what you were,
i taste your residual on my tongue.
so fine, not to be seen
but felt on the lips where you
burn— pink with heat and
slicing again the bloody splits.
a delicate spice to be used
sparingly, but with full intent.
spiced
ground down from the heart
of what you were,
i taste your residual on my tongue.
so fine, not to be seen
but felt on the lips where you
burn— pink with heat and
slicing again the bloody splits.
a delicate spice to be used
sparingly, but with full intent.