Tasting of perfect essence
flowering as the surface is pierced
spritzing into the air
with an aroma which haunts the room
and the fruit is blinding in its rich color
as it dulls the rest of the world by contrast.
I can already taste it on my lips
even before I watch the first errant drops fall
though powerless to contain them
as if I would
they do not escape my eyes
as if they could.
I will always taste this,
and I will never taste it again.
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