Her Taste
My single-serving wait,
That flavor missing,
A sugary rush of femine.
Candy hard, and undesolved,
I salivate, on a smoky.
Bake, for a sleepy fullness.
Craving awake, to
Late-night in snak,
Wishing, a telling tea at sunrise.
With my fruity-logic,
Time's bagged lunch,
This returns starvation.
Left-overs interrupted,
A cynical side dish,
Questioning my expiration.
In past pallets,
To reality diet plan,
This hunger unending.
Copyright © Johnathon Souders | Year Posted 2009
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