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Wine flowed from fountains
Glasses were never empty
Harmony, peace, love
Wine Wednesday
Happy **** Day

Hanging like a scimitar
suspended in the sky,
the moon beside a gleaming star
is pleasing to the eye.
How desolate, this satellite
in airless ebon space
and yet, from here
‘tis beautiful
filagree & lace.

Deep brown color, messy as it’s eaten.
Like something that failed to crunch.
Brittle yet soft, rough and delicate.
It can be fudgy, chewy or cake-like, topped with walnuts or apricot glaze.
A heavy horse failing to hike the high mountain of crisp.
******* the outside, but not as taut as chocolate-chip cookies, or M&M;’s,
A fragile strength that breaks with subtle touch.
Smooth and moist inside, melted chocolate held together.

Created solely for a royal’s mouth to taste,
Slowly dissolving, sea foam ****** by the damp sand,
A guilty pleasure I cannot live without.
The brownie becoming a beautiful bouquet blossoming
In my chocolate tinted mouth.
It cures whatever ails you,
The flavor empowering any mist of dullness or bitterness.
Forgetting about everything, as he mixed the batter
Creating the perfect combination of smoothness, sweetness,
And the creamy after-taste.
Our favorite thing to bake together.

Friday evening we scurried to the kitchen, creating our own baking contest.
His hazel eyes, swirling with the batter poured in circles,
His lips, whistling to the beautiful sight of brownies, plumping as they bake.

Days later, we would come back to that kitchen,
With the scent of freshly baked brownies still lingering in the air.
We would look at each other’s deep brown eyes
Like the brownies we baked and enjoyed together.
His lips, a wallop of sweetness.
Actually, this poem was an accident. The only thing I was thinking of were literal brownies. I am only 14 years old, please don't sue me.
A guilty pleasure
I cannot live without
Anyone else completely addicted to brownies (and all other chocolate) even though you know it's bad for you?
she smears her lips
with mama's red crayons.

(then
she swallows them whole)

lips like sour cherries,
puckered ,
                  swollen .

wiping her eyes on soft
tissue,
blood stains instead.
only to get sick instead//
Take me
to the place
where you get lost
and I will find you
until the end of time
we will wander
through this world
with your heart
in mine
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