I love honey
on my tongue with butter
until it grows in my stomach
multiplying into gallons of
honey (sickly sweet)
suffocating me with a sweetness
I can breathe through
slowly steadily
all your pretty skin
and eyes that haven't lit up
nearly enough lately

so many pretty boys
(dark eyes thick eyebrows carved arms full lips Adams apple)
and I am mesmerized
only
by your furrowed brow
even as the chocolate eyed boy
touches my arm