Beour

Eden spends her time writing about the sea
And how it might taste
She is all hair and skin and teeth
A beautiful thing
WIth soft nerve endings
Hardly a poet, more of a poem

Though I have never tasted sea
I have tasted the gloss from the pages
Of magazines
They cut my tongue and my fingers
And if you were wondering
It tastes like glue and copper
Hardly like anything you'd imagine
Salty water

I imagine is sour
like a lemon
And sweet like a pear
And smells like dogs
And feels like skin
At least that's what I gather
From the stories we've all read

Our eyes are made of paper
All we really have are our fingers
And the spaces between our toes