caviar sits on a cracker.

Salt taste,
rippling across my tongue,
rolling black pebbles
bursting at the edge
symbolic life
to slake my thirsty palette
long drafts of femininity
at its’ source
reduced to here and now
encased in the soft tang
slipped between my lips
and then the cracker,
bitten…
hard!

ml’00

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *