Aftertaste
She was delicious
Not the kind of
Subtle sweet
Like clotted cream
And oh’ my God
Strawberry jam
Delicious
No not like that
That would be an
Understatement
And far too easy
To describe
Even if spread thick
On Ma’s homemade
Scones or bread
Cut like bloomin
Door-step delicious
No nor like
Grandma’s gravy
Used to be
Yet far more tasty
Than any
Sunday roast
And then of course
There were
The undertones
That came with such
Exquisite aftertastes
Without doubt
More satisfying than
A Full English
Followed by
One of those
French cigarettes
And making love
Again but slower
Yeah
That’s the kind of
Delicious I mean
Like I imagine
Ocean honey
Or even sky milk
Might taste
If of course they
Had a taste at all
But then
Work rang and
My whale sound
Ring tone
Roused me
From the taste of her
Now gone
Yes gone but not
Forgotten
Like I had somehow
So very easily
Forgotten
I was on call damnit ….