The oil swished and swirled-
Burning hot.
Spluttering a new tune,
It heeled a dance
Random.
The acrid smell new,
Spread across.
And I tasted myself in a puff-
Of noxious guilt.
Ah! It danced the way up my nostrils,
And the oil cascaded one last time,
And then silence fell-
Impervious.
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HMM...
ReplyDeleteYou know how to use words to know what is the 'impossible' to know what cannot be known with all our senses..
Great
MIP
This one speaks to me of a surreal sensation... akin to pain perhaps.. or even deep passion. So many levels to the imagery you present!
ReplyDeleteObfuscating, but very very appealing!!!