he was sweet like honey,
and I craved a spoonful
with every bite I took

all the sugar cubes
never would make
the bitterness go away
quite as he could

the taste of him
sticky on my skin,
melting between my thighs,
felt like spring

blossoming petals
buzzing with rapture;
a golden saccharine thing.

Tamara Bašić


Tamara Bašić lives in Croatia, where she can often be found reading, staring at the sky in awe, and viciously daydreaming. Her work is featured or forthcoming in Southchild Lit, Ice Lolly Review, celestite poetry, and elsewhere. For more writings and updates, you can find her on social media @authortamarab