A craving for a strawberry sorbet
- icy pink, sour-sweet and served in a tall slim glass
at a sweaty, sticky summer soiree,
my throat screaming to be appeased
- right now!
my tongue already tasting the berry blue,
- no pink!
my eyes protest as I imagine it pressed to my lips.
I’m waiting!
.
.
Seeing you in my dreams is hardly as good as seeing, tasting and touching
you :
my strawberry seal
my yellow sequined dream
my muse, inspiration, Achilles’ heel.