That Blessed Hue

Scent of wintergreen utterly intoxicating
unto nostrils longing to detect
the pure passionate flavor
of cherry blossom tinted cures.

My hands trembling from weakness
while holding that Pepto-Bismal bottle,
just happing knowing soon my stomach
would stop burning once I taste that blessed hue,
which could subdue
what eating some brown greasy concoction
had done to snarl in my insides
into a twisted knot of nauseous sensations.

Leaning against my porcelain comforter
where I had deposited the upchucked remains
from my indulgence,
quickly I swallowed the glorious antacid,
slowly my face changing
until it lost its ashen color
and once again possessed
a wonderful flamingo shade.