Your words fall flat,

Yet your breath speaks volumes -

A bizarre orchestra of scents.

Nutmeg whispers ancient tales,

Chili dances on my consciousness,

Dark chocolate slides between syllables

Like velvet shadows.

Butterscotch melts into memory,

Thyme sprigs spring between teeth,

Curry blooms golden in the air,

While onions weep their sharp truth.

Vanilla haunts the edges,

A ghost of sweetness.

This peculiar perfume

Of your morning feast

Tells stories more potent

Than your chosen words.

My nose - the better listener -

Decodes this aromatic memoir.

I should recoil, but curiosity

Keeps me leaning closer,

Finding poetry in your

Gastronomic indiscretions.