Taste the stone
You are holding
In your hand.
It smells of rains,
Like the waterfall
Gushing down your throat.
It smells of winter wind,
When you throw it
High into the crystal sky.
It smells of blood
Which its sharp edges
Cut into your tender skin.
It tastes of salt
Like the balms
Cradling it.
© jsmorgane (Jan10)
