On my way home I was approached by a girl. She asked, “How do you feel about a liquor run?” I noticed then a group of girls she was with and answered, “Not good. No.” I know the kids would find a way to find their intoxication, but it wouldn’t be by my hand. Shaking my head, I walked away with her saying, “So you’re just going to be cold now?” I felt bad for an instant, thinking I’d come across as an asshole, but I’m sure I made the right decision.
I stopped by Great Ocean, a natural food market where I get some of my groceries now. It’s a marvelous store that has aided in my vegetarianism (which is nearing the half-year mark). Each time I go there I’m tempted by the assortment of coffees, teas and tisanes the store offers. I’ve been drinking a lot of tisanes and teas in the past couple months, pushing aside my coffee consumption with no effort at all, in large part because of my discovery of some marvelous flavours. Today I chose a mandarin orange spice tisane to experiment with.
I’m now drinking a cup of that tisane and being floored by the flavour. The intricacies of the drink are wonderful; the mandarin orange, cloves and cinnamon seep into my tongue quickly, but the other incredients leave a lingering swirl of interplay that I’m content to just focus on. It’s a damn good cup, a damn good cup indeed.
I’ve been listening to a lot of Poe over the past couple of days. I’ve admired her for years and have always been deeply impressed by her interaction with those of us enthralled by her music. Last night I was caught up in just how sexy and sensual her songs can be. “Fingertips” is one song I always become wistful for romance when listening to it. It’s a perfect expression of that; Afterall, she sings, “They tell a story all their own about the human heart alone.”
So here I am, sipping a near-perfect tisane and recalling fragments of romantic memory. Taste has an enchantment over me when it comes to both drinks and lovers. Of course, I don’t mean just the physical flavours of women I’ve loved, though I deeply and worshipfully appreciate that and can never forget it as well. No, the subtle, obvious and hidden flavours of a lover’s entire self is inexorably seductive; When I’ve had a taste of the unending mystery of someone I appreciate all she shares and the greater amount that is impossible to truly know. Mystery, unknowing, that’s the aftertaste of people, that beautiful and intangible aspect of each of us that is out of reach of our thoughts. Me, I’ll linger in the mystery.