something sweet on the tip of my tongue
by Michael Walker Thorsvedtt
(inspired by the music of Leung Wing Kei and by Terik Trout's "Untitled #2")
something sweet on the tip of my tongue,
sweet like these pineapple popsicles and these chocolate
bon-bons wrapped in glossy red foil:
I devour each after
producing a sacred river
to carry them down my throat.
warm and gelatinous like fresh custard poured into a bowl,
his shirt untucked and gray as coarse ocean rocks it folds over my
knees beneath the drinkable air floating through the room.
in each elbow I know a curve like those traced by an architect;
I detect little chambers of buoyancy, of gracious intrinsic heat.
some strange fragrance I taste
slowly and then in a tremendous rush:
sweet, I know it is, sweet and then like
ocean water it warms and spins the stomach so
I am giddy and given over to its flat heat, this sweet
is on the very end of my tongue; this feels like violet leaves
would feel should they be tasted so I know not dryness
as the whiteness forms as a sugar dye, a rich froth.