PB & Milk
In an instant
I had the taste of peanut butter in my mouth:
rich deep
that quintessential nut flavor
slightly salty.
I was sipping it
through a straw,
white and cold
thick yet slurpable
supremely smooth.
I inhale now.
The smell of peanuts is the first thing that hits me.
I perk up, intrigued.
Where did this come from?
Why here, now?
I continue to do what I am doing,
confused but amused
by this sudden appearance of peanut butter.
But then,
vanilla creeps in,
coats my tongue like a velvet blanket.
What is happening?
Soon enough,
the visit becomes visceral.
I am not only remembering,
I am wholly experiencing,
immersed deep inside like
the straw in the liquid.
I can picture this elixir:
white
tinted with flecks of darkened beige -
the peanuts
I can almost
almost hear the slurping sound as I suck the liquid,
the sound of glasses clinking around me as I sit in a crowded restaurant
A relic of the past.
I imagine myself sipping this cool refreshing drink
its sweetness balanced by
a robust fatty flavor.
It’s almost like I am.
Full-bodied ice cream,
sugar granules dissolving under the roof of my mouth.
Vanilla, voluptuous
It lifts all the flavors up, helps to make them sing.
Milk,
soft and subtle
mellows everything out to ensure equilibrium.
The all-embracing sweetness of this drink soothes my mouth
and my worries.
I revel in the luxurious quality of this moment that seems to me a naughty act.
This is the peanut butter milkshake