I can still taste them
bitter tiers of melting darkness
a hand-picked assortment of affection
for a pauper's gratitude, one Valentine's
when frost was on the ground
the con in confectionary escaped notice
your gift pure affectation, beggarly
double layered with innuendo
smutty smooth-talking soft centres
whipped creams
lemons crushed to luscious licks
almond crunch with arsenic overtone
broken teeth and a rotten heart
- never should have taken chocolate from strangers
Whipping up some bittersweet in the Imaginary Garden’s Love Hurts
PoetryPix 