I am meant to be sipped,
to be taken
under the tongue
and rolled around.
There is a richness to me,
a flavor like fecund soil.
Let me slide past your lips
as ice cream leaves the spoon
cool and slow.
I’ll melt in the middle
and saturate the sides
of your speech.
Maybe take a small bite;
move it to the back row to chew.
Swallow.
Feel the afterburn
like green chile,
the arousal of your mouth.
—by Anne Colwell, CSUWP 2008
1 comment:
I think that someone had actually mentioned this in class (but I want to reiterate it anyways), I absolutely LOVE the contrast in imagery you have here between the chill of the ice cream and the burn of the green chile. It's so vivid and creative...again, I love it :)
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