The pictures swell in my mouth
Taste has always been
The most inexplicable of sensations
But I can taste a few smiles
And afternoon sunrays finding their way past the blades of grass to my face
I taste the freshness that came with the speed
Of a polluted river
fictional and familiar
Change tasted exotic
Change changed and curdled
I can taste long twilights and the flies that lived there
I taste the profile of your face
After so much time, I struggle to get the full flavour of that temper
Or the depth of despair to the palette
But I'm learning more and more
That those are pictures
Quietly swelling
Somewhere in the throat