Emotional Emporia

I have learnt to savour the taste of nice feelings

just as I have learnt to recognise the clay which is death,

it's mineral hue and flint hearts, sorrow and regretful pain.

But the nice bubbles, I hold on my tongue and slurp them as if tasting

champagne instead of

Gulped

Or

Spilt

even unpleasurable sensations like bitter.

Cold can become like ice-cream—and flavours and smells are the drugs.