I wonder when the taste of you
became my least favorite flavor.
Like the cake I savored in my youth,
which became stale as I bloomed.
Do you taste it too?
The flavor of the mundane.
Our passion had descended long ago.
We embrace, but an empty road
stretches between our hearts.
Perhaps it lingers deep in my skin,
because while I didn't shrink away,
that my eyes were a billion years away.