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

Come back rain*
Or is this fallacy pathetic enough already?

The *** of rot
I've been simmering
Was embroiled to the boil
You tried to remove the heat
And appallingly scalded
Your chest and face
As my
Water supplies are
Surprisingly small
I have little to go on
but potluck
and recall

-02:36
******* then