Winter sugar falls on my tongue,
White chocolate flecks in the Godiva night.
But I only eat January snowflakes
Because they’re the ripest in the dead
Of winter, when the temperature is just above oblivion.
The frosting you make when you breathe
Disappears inches from my face
And if I open my lips a little bit
It’s bittersweet...
Like the darkness around us.
If you’re not a good little boy this year
Your candy coated shell will crack
Because it’s just too cold to hold our own.
We are like the chocolate chip cookies
Placed on the plastic Santa Clause plate
By the children, who wait for this all year.
They scribble their wishes onto paper
With a cherry-flavored crayon.
Its waxy red slaps me in the face
Because I know (and it breaks my heart).
And although you hold my hand
Much like the dough holds the morsels
We can never really be together,
Because the chocolate never really melts enough.
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 12:52 AM UTC
Winter sugar falls on my tongue,
White chocolate flecks in the Godiva night.
But I only eat January snowflakes
Because they’re the ripest in the dead
Of winter, when the temperature is just above oblivion.
The frosting you make when you breathe
Disappears inches from my face
And if I open my lips a little bit
It’s bittersweet...
Like the darkness around us.
If you’re not a good little boy this year
Your candy coated shell will crack
Because it’s just too cold to hold our own.
We are like the chocolate chip cookies
Placed on the plastic Santa Clause plate
By the children, who wait for this all year.
They scribble their wishes onto paper
With a cherry-flavored crayon.
Its waxy red slaps me in the face
Because I know (and it breaks my heart).
And although you hold my hand
Much like the dough holds the morsels
We can never really be together,
Because the chocolate never really melts enough.
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