I still taste our story,
even though it has been a year.
Coffee breath,
because it made you feel older.
Chap Stick lips,
because you bit then when nervous.

I still taste our story,
delving, devouring, dissecting.
Grape bruises,
because you were so delicate.
Cherry cheeks,
because you argued you're "hardcore".

I still taste our story,
each midnight care ride.
Cigarette teeth,
because you liked its calming effect.
Peppermint eyes,
because your mind swirled while star-gazing.

I still taste our story,
how free-spirited you were.
Broccoli tongue,
because you thought you could out drink me.
Holey-cheese feet,
because you ran away, with no shoes.

I still taste our story,
the day you had to leave.
Black licorice words,
because you couldn't be free if you stayed.
Green Jell-O fingers,
because I couldn't hold on to you,
no matter how hard I try.