A Taste of Delicacy

A defamiliarisation poem about dinner.

The pale tender taste of subtleness
Sensitive, surrounded by a harness,
Whose skin shall shatter the weakest,
Boneless, slender - a taste of delicacy

Juxtaposed to a baby toothed drink,
Ambiguity in flavours next to the pink
Food on my fork, which is on the brink
Of destruction - a taste of delicacy

A swirl corrupted by the curved curl of cream,
An indelicate lift, emotions demolishing at the seam,
A tree-like colour that lay under as a lean,
End of the first plate of delicacy,

Nothing left in trace, second plate
Indulge into the base, second taste
Quick pace, nothing left in space
The end of my taste of delicacy