v u l v a l i c i o u s
Something Not So Foreign
There was a lime floating deliciously in my glass, all pithy perfection. If I close my eyes, i can taste it, see it, smell it. The smell not so strong as the taste, the sight there as though under a magnifying glass.
I would like to taste a thin, sugary glaze of icing over a resistant yet flaky pastry. The pastry is neither too sweet nor too savory, the pastry just is.
I would like the flavor of that soup, the one with the coconut milk base and the lightly spicy thai flavor. I would like to swallow down a spoonful of it, tasting the basil and chewing on the bit of mushroom. I would like one piece of chicken left at the bottom from which I could suck the remaining broth.
The lime floating in my water would be an elegant juxtaposition against the hotsweet coconut and the resistantly sweet pastry.
I would like a long, deep, warm sort of embrace to finish my meal. I want strong arms wrapped around me, the familiar smells of laundry, shampoo, perfume. The familiar. An embrace that would hold me for another week, at least. A meal that would last until money comes in, and I can find someplace where everything is just so.
Sometimes, there are things I can't find. My only comfort is the lime floating in my water. Sweet, tart, clean.
May my cunt stay with me just like that. Sweet, tart, clean.