For the sacred nourishment of a flavor and the sudden bloom on the tongue’s buds. Each distinctive taste arrives in its own bright prickling color and explodes in the quiet darkness of the mouth. It’s a sort of ecstasy released by the sustenance of a bite, so deeply intimate and inhabiting such personal realms of the body. It enters through the sensual door of the mouth and travels through the delicate workings of our digestion, dispersing energy and vitality throughout. It is an art of magic, that birth of a flavor, which brings forth fireworks of feeling upon ingestion.

Here is taste as a five pointed star, or pentacle, shining distinctly in five directions within the sphere of the pomegranate. The star points towards sweet, salt, sour, bitter, and savory. These flavors inform our feelings, existing in the mouth and mind like language. This place where words are formed, where kisses land, where distinction blossoms. The apple seeds are illuminated from within the womb in the holiness of sustenance.