Lotte Kramer
Bitter Chocolate
Now, in my autumn years,
I can understand
My grandmother’s preference
For bitter chocolate.
That black taste
Of neo-sweetness
Far outgrows the other kind’s
Blond milkiness.
Just as serious opera
Or mathematical Bach
Has long overtaken
The lure of musicals.
So now I savour
The cocoa-solids melting
On the experienced tongue
In a slow orgy of well-being.
Page(s) 40
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