Askance

STRANGE FRUIT- 20.04.14-web use

The squeeze of the words,

caught you looking askance.

Sad, blueberry stare,

Beware!

The zesty cocktails!

Sliced and sharp;

fruitless extracts, trail

the bitter-sour juice

of conversations hollowed

deep beneath peeled skin;

so sharp, it stings,

rings the bitterness

running as a pin,

tracks your funnelled beard;

exotic trickles on a rosy chin.

 

The squeeze of the words,

caught you looking askance.

Sad, blueberry stare,

Beware!

The zesty cocktails!

Noiseless splashdown in pools

of fruit, falls silent

softly crushing,

picked off in bloom.

Still me gently, now

fermenting, astringent, aglow;

sweet nothings decaying

are words left unsaid-

are seeded and sown.