Cranberry Lament

A Poem by Killian

I could tell you what it's about but that would spoil all your fun

The magenta swirls inside, dancing rhythmically
unreachable.
The morning light filters through the window
touching
the magenta. It lightens, softens,
glows.

Falling, gliding, flying through air into an empty cup inside my
hands
I feel its weight.
I hold it.
How beatiful it is in my cup
inside my
hands.

Magenta's smell entices, filling the air with sweet
fragrances.
Savour magenta. How I long to feel it against my
lips
Savour magenta. How I long to feel it swimming on my
tongue.

Slowly magenta floats through the air
Adiago
splashing against my lips its cool
slipping through after so much longing
sliding over my tongue, my senses go off like a million atomic bombs
salivating it fills me

And just like that

It is gone

Empty

and all I'm left with

is

Bitter