You say it's not April. I know. April, also known as poetry month. Yup. Here it is July and I'm posting a second new poem! I also did this the end of June. All I know is, when poems arrive, they arrive. And sometimes I feel compelled to share them.
After Dinner
It's hot in the kitchen
The exhaust fan
Can't keep up
With eliminating
The heat from the now turned off stove
I open the refrigerator
And bask in the cool
Pushing out from its gleaming interior
Espying the dark chocolates
Filled with sea salt caramel
I reach in, my surreptitious fingers
Unwrapping the bitter sweetness
That melts into me
At first brittle, then flowing
And I imagine that taste
Might be like yours
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