Lunch

Pure sensory.

The crisp and crunch of
assorted leafy shades of green
brings about the smacking
of satisfied lips and
flashes of ecstasy that
send shrills throughout.

The crackle of fork
through the hearts of
lifeless pale green romaine
brings music to my ears
all the way until
that fork scrapes glass.

A crack signifies a crouton
split in to two.
Peppered, slippery dressing
slides across the tongue
with splashes of color,
tangy lemon, bright in taste.

The decadent meal is sadly
done when the decrescendo
of crispy chewings
is at it's last length
and I think to myself,
"No one was harmed in the making."