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 pē
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