purple clouds
like cotton candies
taste oddly heavy
similar to a kind
of disappointment
my mom once
spoke about.
three fingers in
deep between
pale lips
such contrast
that would have
been ironic
in its own epitome.
but now its
a little funny
tongue heavily
dipped in
confusion and anger
both at once
like chocolate sauce
slick and thick
and lips parted
almost screaming
in either pain
or pleasure
or pride.