I Tasted Love Once
I tasted love once—
She was bitter and he was sad.
She was a fruit plucked while stranded
In the greenery of her youth,
Thrust into unbecoming hands
Which bruised her delicate flesh.
I tasted love once—
He was wistful and lost.
He was two hands left outstretched
In a stormy winter night,
Nothing but memories held
As a sweet Lambrusco in a fractured flute.
I tasted love once—
He held me much too close.
He raged like hemlock through my mouth
And laughed, vulgar, as I choked
On that sickeningly sweet wine
He forced down my drunken throat.
I tasted love once—
He scoffed as he tasted me.
Words of honey and vinegar on lips
Of his, burning and cleansing
And then soothing away
That cough he gave me.
I tasted love once—
She rested on lips such as yours,
Her every breath a needle of Tar,
Her laughter a change in the Tide.
I may have tasted love once,
But never more than a tight-lipped taste.