Salted Caramel 1

Salted Caramel by Michael Gerleman

I bought a salted caramel,

plucked it from a bowl by the cash register.

I was attracted to the brown glow under the

white wax paper, and the caramel drops

seeping from the slit in the wrapping were

as promising as locking eyes with a stranger.

I swear I wasn’t thinking of you.

But when I popped the brown sweetness

in my mouth and began to probe it

with my tongue, the salty sweetness,

the smooth, firm, yet yielding body of

the caramel, reminded me, oh my lost love,

of my tongue in the hollow of your neck,

the salt on your skin at the end of the day,

and how my mouth could make you

dissolve, make you release your

salty sweetness to me.