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liminalisePoems
Red skittles In my clenched fist Holding on so tightly That the dye bleeds Crimson in my palm I feel myself Getting heavy at the wrists As I cling on No matter how my autonomy seeps Into your waiting hands Am I the sweet tang Of sugar coated lust? How many other delights Have you tasted? Do you crave me?
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Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
I won't forget how you picked my favourites out the bag and passed them across to me. Love isn't notes and flowers, it's silently selecting my favourite colour sweet and sliding them across to me in the passenger seat
Red skittles In my clenched fist Holding on so tightly That the dye bleeds Crimson in my palm I feel myself Getting heavy at the wrists As I cling on No matter how my autonomy seeps Into your waiting hands Am I the sweet tang Of sugar coated lust? How many other delights Have you tasted? Do you crave me?
Written by
liminalise
21/F/London
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
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