Taste

I tasted her.
She smelled of musk and cotton.
She tasted of hay, dirt, and loss.
I tasted her.
She tasted of wasted time
of shattered dreams
of spilled wine.
I tasted the shame.
I tasted the guilt.
I tasted the children she bore.
I tasted every grain of salt
in every wound she suffered, ever.
I tasted that love.
The love for me.
The love for another.
The love not free.
The love not given.
The love, not for me.
I tasted her soul.
I tasted that woman.
I tasted her.