LAST MEAL

The thought of a last anything
distracts the ability to process the
appetite being forced in the taste
buds of our reality.

My last meal will reflect the time
my past was capable to feed me,
flavored food.

I want to eat the laughter that
brought joy to my eyes, and the
tears that bitter my mouth and
crumble my heart into salt like
particles.

My last meal consists of a food no 
one can provide. But feel free to
try to duplicate the taste of my future.

J.P.A.Domingos