Desire

If you were to crush it between your teeth
it would be astringent, green on the tongue
like chewing rose petals--
something you can't not do; they smell
so sweet. Unpleasant
and unanticipated, the taste would roll
through your mouth and you'd savor that disgust,
the scent moving in your blood,
the anger, the heat,
the nausea, the longing so great it pounds
in your sinuses and makes your fingernails ache.
You'll never spit it out.