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An Acquired Taste

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The first taste of freedom is excruciating,

It sizzles on your tongue,

And smacks the back of your throat,

A sensory overload.

It feels so unfamiliar,

Deciding where to go,

What to do,

Who to be.

It does not feel good,

Not in the first instance,

But you drink it up,

Swallow it down,

And learn to love

It’s curious delights.

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