Taste

Oh I want to taste you, I want to taste every bit of your soul and your mind. 

To taste the strong and subtle flavors that create who you are. 

I want to feel your fingers against my skin, asking for the taste of me. 

I want you to taste me, taste my words and my thoughts, the sweet drops of honeyed happiness and the sharp metal of my anger, like blood split in your mouth. 

I want to be tasted til you are intoxicated and stumbling, I want to be tasted till you have consumed all that you can. 

After you have done this, I want you to leave. 

If you have consumed all you can, then you have only tasted my shallow end. 

If you set limits on me, then you have tasted the sweet simmer but not the citrus boil. 

I can revoke your cup as quickly as I have given it to you to drink from. 

You have given nips of the rue and not the gumbo. 

Blessed with the sips of nectar but not the wine. 

I will leave, but I find myself staying. You no longer wish to explore my ocean, only remain lulled in it. Don't you know I am just as unpredictable as I was in the beginning, I am not suddenly settled because you think you have captured me like a sea nymph and chained me to the rock of your comfort. 

I wait, because you have not tasted the depths of me, yet you no longer wish to experience the flavors of my being. I wait for the time you will reveal yourself unto me, and I will throw you up like the creature did Jonah on the beaches, and you will not be granted anything but the lapping edges of me. 

I will wait, as you have no formal binding on my wrists, but I will wait. And I will sink you and drown you because you are so like the others, they drank until drunk, but did not thank the vine or the fruit.