Sourness travels along my tongue prickling like ants
Who seek to rest their busy bodies
On the sweetness of aftertaste
Stuck between the gaps of my crocodile teeth
Flavour scurries in panic
The walls of my cheeks are caving in
Moved by their persistence
My throat opens up in welcome
Gleefully they dance tricked by false refuge
Diving one after the other
Disappearing into the pit
My jaw stretches wide smiling wickedly
To coax the passionfruit once more
As I whisper lies of, “it’s my last one I promise”