As I sip my cup of city night
the flickering orange lights
taste polluted,
but the urban flavours
tickle my taste buds
with a dusty, artificial warmth
that reminds me of home.
I miss home.
It's now one year and
four hours since I last drank
those semi-opaque orbs.
(I only know by the ticking
on my wrist and by the
date on the paper.)
You got it for me.
You watched the visual aroma
twist around my tongue
and disappear through the
colour in my eyes.
It reminded me of you.
It had the same kiss;
the same alluring essence;
the same glow.
I miss home.
I miss you.
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