After-Taste Poem by Frank Bana

... taste of a kiss, it lingers, like a syrup
on the edge of lips, like a harsh insight
that burns a slow void, on the fingertips, to depths
unknown at first, in flesh parts of the heart

... of an addictive brew, expressed from beans
picked broken-back from Wollo province slopes
blended with fruits of fire islands, desert capes
with hopes of energy, teasing the nerves

... of instants where eyes meet, alight with thirst
inquisitive for love, when bodies pass
each other on the street, the frisson sighs
vitality, regrets the moment lost

... of ginger root, the bracing bitterness
as partners bite too deep, the spice
lifting their lives from dark low-lying fog
the boredom, sour at night, infusing them

... it may be a mistake, but not too late
the taste of first attraction, open rush
and falling heat can still be felt, like tamarind
a trace upon the tongue, savoured again.