Your first taste
made the aftertaste
bittersweet.
On your hands,
the gleam of a silver tray.
On your lips,
red thread,
tied to my lips.
Promises exchanged in dark corners,
your shadow consoling mine.
Grey fields bloomed in colors bold.
In time, the thread grew taut,
cut by the blade in your hand.
A love once cherished,
now perished in fading colors.
Only a lingering taste remains.
Bittersweet.
Jun 16, 2025
Jun 16, 2025 at 1:16 PM UTC
Your first taste
made the aftertaste
bittersweet.
On your hands,
the gleam of a silver tray.
On your lips,
red thread,
tied to my lips.
Promises exchanged in dark corners,
your shadow consoling mine.
Grey fields bloomed in colors bold.
In time, the thread grew taut,
cut by the blade in your hand.
A love once cherished,
now perished in fading colors.
Only a lingering taste remains.
Bittersweet.
