First Taste of Loss

My first sip of loss, like a fine wine gone dry on my lips,

               On my tongue.

It slides down my throat like honey but tastes more like tar.

It comes in the simplest form; innocence.

Bittersweet, it’s ingredients mixed together with something else

                    That doesn’t belong, small enough that you only

                     Notice in the aftertaste, a bitter bit of nothing that

                     You could ignore…but can’t.

The first taste of loss, like ancient candy between my teeth.

So old it’s melted itself into something bland, no longer sweet with

                       Only a memory of delicious and saccharine it once

                        Was.

I struggle to swallow and retch with each attempt but still deep down

                         Inside I know I must choke down every bitter morsel,

                         Every tasteless bite until it’s lodged in my gut.

Because this too is a part of life and this too is worth consuming even

                         If it leaves me never ever wanting more.