The tang
of it stings my tongue
As I
lick the curved inside of the spoon,
Lumps of
rind still cool from the refrigerator
Clinging
to my mouth as I lust for more
The kiss
of sweet saddled with the lash of bitter
Lapped
up and consumed
Unable
for me to tell which is which
If
indeed there is a difference,
And in
hungering for sweet we must accept the bitter
I rarely
spread across bread instead consume it
Straight
out of the depths of the jar
Rattling
my spoon at its bottom,
Licking
as deep as my tongue will go
First
around the grooves near where the lid screws on
And then
into the deep of it, each inch
A
painful reach that makes me ache the deeper I go
I can
never get it all, as deep a reach as my tongue has –
Even my
fingers, scraping the bottom
Can’t
get at all the fruit, hidden in the crevices
And I
settle to licking off what my fingers have found,
And
still not in the least satisfied.
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