twelve piece fried hard

part tenderness down the middle

letting the natural essence be held and tasted

encouraging urges of not wasting  content

yet failing to comprehend how sweet it all is

like the juice stripped from the inner vine

of a honey suckle flower…one drip

but don’t you yearn for a second

wanting to beg as you spin the flower

hoping it spills the rest…the way I want you

the smell of crispy fresh and organically preferred

though you are not a bird but the finest of your gender

tall enough for me to reach on tip toes

coke colored to climb snap of refreshing

I really don’t like comparing you to edibles and libation

I really do love rationing you little by little

saving some for later and not now

favorite tart green apple

and to think there’s not an account of formal introduction

simply aware it’s gone happen

in the meantime I’ll medicate in comfort of

imaginary decadence…taking that with fries



4 thoughts on “twelve piece fried hard

  1. metaphors with food content… mmmmm my favorite… your word combination is what has always done it for me… you have the ability to conjurer added thought to fully grasp the content and all the time wishing that there was a tad of white chocolate content within the tasting,,, but there i go again, just dreaming…. i am glad i still get to see your magic thoughts.

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