An Oyster, a Tongue

Best served with a hint

of lemon, lingering from the last drink:

cold nips on salty flesh.

A glib thing. Sleek,

awash with sea water,

slipped past your lips in one slick act.


You may not have liked it the first

time that you tried it. Perhaps

it’s a later, acquired taste:

not sweet,

more like a pearl of sweat still fresh.


The trick is to get past the shell.


Leonie Wanitzek