The taste of leaf

 

June 3, 2014

 

I touch the tip of the leaf

With the tip of my finger

Feeling along the edges first

A slow west touch

That comes with rain

And then over its surface

Until we both quiver

Or shiver

Or shudder from it all,

Not cold, but cool

Yet red wet hot

We feel inside

So I can taste what I touch

And feel each vein

Grow thick

As I take it into my fish

To squeeze

Holding my hand

Over your upturned lips

So that you can taste

Each drip, too.