Prestonfield house

it came right at the end no
long-winded presentation just
cheese

the first
a mouthful dark the next
a milky-sour gel its
textures made in heaven

but only when
I moved on to the third did I discover
the truffle honey pot

ambrosia gold

to smear the off-white flesh of mammal plenty
a small platoon
of glowing rennet souls

my preciouses

and one by one each morcel
complied with eager twists
of eager knife and the palpation
of eager fingers mine that sought
tactile umami overwrought

in synaesthetic bliss

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