When I kiss you,

I taste the french fries you had
for lunch, and the bitter chocolate
you had for dessert.

When I kiss you,
I taste your smile.
I taste the gum you stole
from the check-out line
as a last-minute decision.

When I kiss you,
I taste your past lovers as if
I were biting into a lemon
with cuts in the corners
of my mouth.
No sugar, just
sour pain.

When I kiss you, I taste
the words that spill
out of your mouth
when you look at me.
I wonder why tasting is
a more believable sense
than hearing.

When I kiss you,
I taste the blood in your
mouth from your
father and the
bullies on the playground.

I don’t spit it out when it fills my mouth.
It’s a part of me.

You are my favorite flavor.