You tasted like butterscotch
Pure and sweet against my lips
Your touch felt like cotton candy
Soft and spindly on my hips
Of that syrupy scotch
Buzzing bees would make a balm
For nights when I taste less sugar
Then comes saccharine calm

You look like the early sun
Dewdrops set much too soon
Your eyes betray the midnight glow
In favor of later noon
When I wake from the dream
With morning numbness too
Feeling nothing but your hand
I see naught but you