Hope stirs, I spy a curved vessel,
Do I try, have I the mettle?
I open and spend time to taste,
But find the same, more or less.
Heavy sweetness on my tongue,
Missing texture, missing love.
Without words, I show my need,
Another taste, and then I’ll leave.
Mature child in adult story.
Flush, in slow-moving glory.
Bottom up,
head back, release.
Still unhappy,
without peace.