epeolatry revisited ~ the poem

Here’s today’s NaPoWriMo post (still playing catch-up!):

Epeolatry[1] ~

I can taste it: the airy mouthfeel of eh

the whisper plosive of

how the round liquidity of ol fills

the back of my throat like thick honey

and then the crisp wafer of trēē

breaks between the teeth.

It is my secret delight

my hidden pleasure

that I take out in solitary hours

and eat gluttonously

fondling the buttery syllables.

[1] epeolatry: the worship of words

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