Avacado, Amoretto

Silently bathed in avocado, you soaked in the fragrance of a blanket At midday, crunched your teeth into something sweet and yellow, no flower still no pretty petal; I’ll make our evening coffee, I’ll make amoretto. Why is it you liked amaretto so much? As if the melted avocados weren’t enough, to stare at petals in the dark, stained blanket etherized beneath a star shine yellow Stare, as I stare at the white crevice: your teeth that are your smile, your teeth that become stained with the last sip of amaretto, stained with our silence and the color yellow. Like the silver knife who’s blade slips through the avocado, and I wish for more minutes in a day to sit on this blanket And more staples in this life to puncture the heart of a petal Its mushy translucence conveys innocence, oh petal! How I’d much like to forget and sink, or clap, my teeth in rage but here upon this blanket exists no rage. Here is where we sip our amaretto And can think of nothing but the next bite of avocado When, failing words, failing thought, a yellow taxicab honks distantly, barely distinguishable from the yellow buzzing bee in my hair. Swiftly landing on a nearby petal whose delicate arms, the juice of the avocado gently outpours from gaps between our teeth, lover. Lover of the sky, lover of chocolate, and amaretto. Lover asleep on cushioned soul of the yellow blanket baked in brilliance from the sun, yellow blanket under our footsteps, under our yellow bodies painted in the sensuous scents of amaretto with gum like innocence floating over any petal. Don’t get me started that I need to brush my teeth When yours are green with Avocado and leaf, like the print on the blanket, yellow like yonder petal whose strong scent reaches the taste of my teeth, stained coffee yellow from the over-indulgence, avocado, amaretto.