I will always remember 

the taste of the Moon.

 

the crispy edges etched into

soft crumbs that

hold sweet fillings and

loveless bites

 

lotus flowers,

ripped

with vigour, torn

into the stems of pleasure

 

silver teardrops that fall

like snow in seasoned days

as the moon rises 

fated forever

 

arrows sharp 

like shining lanterns 

scorched into sun

of ten, nine fell

 

the sweet dreams of youth

hence immortalised in memory

threatened 

by the elixir of loss

 

I wait to seek you

in my own sweet dream,

a moment of triumph,

an eternal rest

 

so now I present to you,

handmade with love,

the words from my youth

forever sealed 

in the sticky lotus

mooncakes

of my love.

 

I long to remember

the taste of the Moon.