Taste / by Zander Ford

She tasted me

And I let her


I let curiosity overtake my walls

Scale them neatly

In one leap

Effortless

As a Doe

Hopping a fence

For tender shoots

Of springtime tendril passion


And then I was gone

A distant memory of my distant memories

All lost in her sense of inquiry

Lost in her desire to know more

Her desire to learn

What unfolding scents may be held

Deeper


Those places bees would know existed

Normally hidden To us Humans

The crevices of sweet nectar


Sex

Blood

Desire

Art

Passion

Longing


Nature’s wonderful messengers of motivation

Her seed-pods of craving and creativity


Delicious tempting tastes

Awaiting

Eager lips

To explore