The Shape of Things

It struck me, the shape of it,

the curve of it.

It intrigued me, the form of it,

the flow of it.

The author's name brought up a bubble,

a bubble of laughter.

"Cummings" my adolescent self breathed,

"E.e." her tongue weaved.

The words made my heart squeeze (my heart of hearts),

they made my heart squeeze words out.

Mulch, ravenous, perpetual,

cacophonous, melodious, texture, amalgamation.

The taste of them, they struck me,

the tang of them.

The flavour of them, they intrigued me,

their bite.

I rolled their shapes across my tongue and swirled their tastes in my mind,

"this" I whispered "this is what I came to find".