issue one / serendipity
to the people afraid of sweetness
Amelia Nason
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who dread the grams of sugar printed on labels
of candy bars that flavored their childhoods
& now taste more like numbers than nostalgia
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who chase away illness with straight quinine
a spoonful of sugar to make medicine go down
isn’t much help if the sugar is what tastes bad
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who realize you catch more flies with honey
they’d rather starve in vinegared reality
than feast on ganymede’s ambrosial falsehoods
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who gorge themselves on caramelized affection
it sticks their gluttonous lips together
butterscotch suppression mistaken for satiation
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who see that succulent fruit comes off a poison tree
arsenic dribbles down their chins instead of nectar
since eve was also promised the apple of her eye
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who understand that most lies taste saccharine
because we desperately want to believe them
while truth curdles old & sour on the tongue
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who don’t know why love burns like oolong tea
rather than throat-scalding cherry cough syrup
or how sweetness itself tastes different to us all
who dread the grams of sugar printed on labels
of candy bars that flavored their childhoods
& now taste more like numbers than nostalgia
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who chase away illness with straight quinine
a spoonful of sugar to make medicine go down
isn’t much help if the sugar is what tastes bad
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who realize you catch more flies with honey
they’d rather starve in vinegared reality
than feast on ganymede’s ambrosial falsehoods
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who gorge themselves on caramelized affection
it sticks their gluttonous lips together
butterscotch suppression mistaken for satiation
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who see that succulent fruit comes off a poison tree
arsenic dribbles down their chins instead of nectar
since eve was also promised the apple of her eye
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who understand that most lies taste saccharine
because we desperately want to believe them
while truth curdles old & sour on the tongue
to the people afraid of sweetness,
who don’t know why love burns like oolong tea
rather than throat-scalding cherry cough syrup
or how sweetness itself tastes different to us all
< previously published by Ice Lolly Review >
amelia nason is a next generation indie award finalist, a scholastic award winner, and an alumna of the interlochen, fir acres, and new york times summer writing programs. she also edits for kalopsia literary journal. her work is featured or forthcoming in ice lolly, full mood, and eunoia. when she isn’t writing, amelia fences competitively and enviously reads the acknowledgements sections of her favorite books. you can find her on twitter @amelia_emn.