Strawberry

Before the burning at the back of my throat

there was the taste of strawberries. Sweet and

sugary, sparkling bubbles giving me

scattered thoughts.

Come on, save some for me!

The burning sticking like thick syrup and

the fruitiness overpowered by

static. Fuzziness like peaches but with a

heat to the apples of my cheeks.

Hey, what percentage is this?

I can’t read it,

it hurts my eyes.

Falling into a dance of giggles and stupid smiles.

Legs wobbly like jiggling Jell-O, mixing flavours making me

craving the buzz, the excitement. My new persona ripening:

cheeky, bubbly, dripping with sweetness, and

craving the taste of his pleasure.

Babe, you smell like strawberries.

Spell of intoxication not too strong, vision clear enough to

see the deep cherry red on his pretty face and the lights lower

to twilight, the sunset outside deep purple plums.

Not enough of the spiked juiciness to make me forget

or regret. That taste of strawberry

long gone from my tongue. Only leftover on his lips

that linger on my neck.