Imagined sweet

Until recently I used to eat honeysuckle, or rather I would try to drink the dew. I would pick a honeysuckle blossom from it's vine, bite the small green tip of the flower where it once met the stem. Then I would gently suck the flower searching for that honeysuckle scent. There was never lot to taste, maybe the slightest prick of sweet would alert the tip of my tongue that it had met with something perfectly delicate and new. The sensation was never as real as I wanted it to be. Instead it was small and fleeting. In the end, I decided honeysuckles were better to smell than taste... And actually they are almost always better to imagine than anything. There's a sort of empty feeling though, in the imagining of something so ellusively sweet. I bite the inside of my bottom lip and wait for the feeling to pass. I've given up crushing flower petals against my teeth, but the imagined sweet won't leave me alone.


*photo by jacilluch on flickr