Dragon-Eggs

So, your tongue craved those rounded shapes
smashed by the man's (or woman's) fingers
a globe that - lost its north pole to 
the invasion of mashed potatoes and spices.

Zest filled up the centre, transparent
mound of fossilized shell, warts and all
in place. Then came the water,
tasting of lime and sour things.

Your mouth sloshed with
sharp edges and soft potato mash,
your tongue drenched in water,
oh! the right taste, the exact taste.

You savoured
the spice and the pain,
the roof of your mouth caved in 
to cravings. 
Your tongue on fire, 
with Dragon-Eggs - a perfect name 
for Bengali girl's (and boy's) 
Phuchka-beloved.