Lebkuchen

I thought at first
you were calling me by a term of endearment
which you learned from your pen-friend
in Germany;
a word you had gracefully deciphered
from her slanted, dotted hand.

But it was a biscuit
and a biscuit unlike any other;
shaped like stars and filled
with soft, brown warmth,
and bursting
with peppery sharpness,
and Christmas.

I bit into the biscuit
expecting chocolate,
and a vaguely sweet crunch
and found a heady, dense sweetness
which far surpassed my dreams
for the humble, five-pointed snack

and so is every kiss:
already saccharine and hot with pleasure
I skip a beat every time I take a bite
into the heady, dense sweetness
of you.