Tuesday, June 3, 2014

The taste of leaf

June 3, 2014

I touch the tip of the leaf
With the tip of my finger
Feeling along the edges first
A slow west touch
That comes with rain
And then over its surface
Until we both quiver
Or shiver
Or shudder from it all,
Not cold, but cool
Yet red wet hot
We feel inside
So I can taste what I touch
And feel each vein
Grow thick
As I take it into my fish
To squeeze
Holding my hand
Over your upturned lips
So that you can taste
Each drip, too.

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