I know what love tastes like
sort of like the warm berries on your lips
mixed with chlorine and
cheap pink perfume from a plastic spray bottle
like lukewarm coffee that was carried on a bike by a underage boy
it tastes like jealousy on the roof of my mouth
at the success and intelligence that sweats from him
like
pride that overwhelms me--a wave of warm sunshine
like a cold metal ring in my mouth (biting it nervously--the raw disruptive taste of metal waking my senses)
as I say goodbye for the day
(or week)
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 12:34 PM UTC
I know what love tastes like
sort of like the warm berries on your lips
mixed with chlorine and
cheap pink perfume from a plastic spray bottle
like lukewarm coffee that was carried on a bike by a underage boy
it tastes like jealousy on the roof of my mouth
at the success and intelligence that sweats from him
like
pride that overwhelms me--a wave of warm sunshine
like a cold metal ring in my mouth (biting it nervously--the raw disruptive taste of metal waking my senses)
as I say goodbye for the day
(or week)
