He said <br /> <br />in a moment of retrospect, <br />with murky eyes <br />and that spontaneous, wildly surprising way <br />of his: <br /> <br />‘learn to Savor the sour and you'll Appreciate the sweet’ <br /> <br />so I sat back and thought. <br />I've had him wrapped around my tongue <br />plenty- <br />tasted him so many times, when he blazed with fury, <br />and pride, and passion, <br />when his eyes raged like a starved soldier; <br />I heaped him onto my plate <br /> <br />and devoured his emotions like authentic Mexican salsa: <br />agonizingly delicious. <br />(s’true the only good stuff <br />is the kind that scalds your throat <br />and leaves you lying on the floor, beggin’ for more, <br />stickin’ your tongue out tryin’ to catch the air <br />laughin’ hysterically as it <br />burns.) <br />And when the throat aches from too much, as it will, <br />his soothing calm slides like strawberry jell-o <br />down, and down, and down: <br />refreshed— <br />true. <br /> <br />All this in a moment of candid retrospect- <br />we sit <br />on frayed brown seats in an air-conditioned Mexican restaurant, <br />being waited on <br />by an old man in a faded sombrero, <br />asking politely <br />for water for two and watching the conquistadors <br />ride by <br />motionless on the wall, <br />wondering <br />what it must have been like- <br />as we anticipate our salsa, the burning sensation, and <br />jell-o in little bowls.<br /><br />Zoe Nyght<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/he-said-3/
