When You Taste Love Before it is Yours

I saw it behind glass, that first time,

in a display cabinet, coveted by many mouths,

alluring in all its fluffy mousse-like glory.

Light specks contoured the glassy surface,

reflecting imagined stars

while a background hum of activity dispersed

like powdered sugar through a sieve.

It caught me but I needed no restraining. It shot me

with seduction. But it had me with its presence.

*

I tasted you before you were mine,

that sweet, sweet taste of toffee cloud

melting on a submissive tongue,

more delicious for the bitter sips of coffee between

each mouthful of that rich frisson

a collision that forms only in

a perfect union.

*

Crystal silence crackled like a brulee

broken only by your lips curling

when you guessed I tasted your kiss

before you were mine.

When you said hello, I wondered

What is this new and beautiful word?