The licorice jelly beans nobody ever eats

(besides me).

The dark roast coffee

My dad always drinks.

The deep-fried mushrooms

We get at the sports bar every Sunday.

The bittersweet taste of summer memories

With each kiss of the berries.

The rich taste

Of dark chocolate on a rainy day.

The **** bite

Of Pinot Noir on a date night.

The taste of regret

That comes from eating plums in your white sundress.

It’s the beans

From my dad’s famous deer chili.

The sleepiness—or the alertness—

That comes from drinking that cup of plain tea.

That nice burn that comes

When you add to much pepper.

Black is my favourite colour

And this is what it tastes like.