With what is left
We will take a bite
Of this bitter cake

You will pretend it’s sweet
And I will say the truth
(the brutal truth) as always

It will coat your palette
Leave crumbs on your tongue
That keep you from talking.

When we kiss, its mix of flavors
Will linger between your mouth and mine
(but you won’t wholly share it)

As pungent as a blackberry
Squeezing its midsummer juices
Into the sugary cobbler,

With what is left
We will take a bite
And I too will taste what you call sweet.