desserts can dance

I used to think that meringue
was pronounced merengue
because the tart sweetness
always twirled on my tongue.
I was young,
thinking that taste could
bring me total color.
But I didn’t know what taste was
until I tasted you.
Plush lips that faded my eyes
in pink perfection
with the surprise of lemon
yellow, waking my head
like a summer sunrise.
You know how to love,
and you love right.
I knew it as soon as
the butterflies billowed
up into my chest.
I swore my lungs
could have collapsed.
Breathless,
you leave me.
And my heart beats
in soft peaks.

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