Regret

The taste of regret

Is not bitter,

It will not slake

Your throat with needles

When you see flagons

Of the sunshine to warm

A home not quite made.

No.

Regret will slip into color:

Its orange will pin you

To the sky

For the winds to whisper

The cloying promises

You forgot to make.

You will taste them,

The sugar in those ceremonies

Will parch your tongue

Until all you search

In dreamy rainfalls

Is the tastelessness

Of water