The Bitter And The Sweet

No matter the bitter,
I’ll not deny the sweet

that polishes the bitter
to a high, taut sheen

so that when I take it in
(as I am inclined to do)

I still may see reflected in it
the sweet which touched it once

and left its subtle tinge
upon the sting of bitter.

No matter the bitter
and its effect upon my face

and core, I will never deny
that sweet and bitter fall equally well

upon my tongue; though sweet
may not be common, though bitter

somehow fills me more, sweet is present
somewhere and even as I twist

my cheeks and pout my lips,
even as I cough my praise

of bitter and its bracing charm,
sweet holds its firm and distant sway

if only because it sets me free
from too much bitter to think

and dream of sweet as
a possibly different way to be.