secrecy, is it crime?
i keep mine, they stay untried
is it wrong, is it okay?
spun of spider silk, delicate
still, a whisper of what can be
but whispering is hard to hear
short; percussive string strain
sweet like sugar on your tongue,
not molasses from a cane
where is the drowning now?
i wouldn't know what to do with molasses anyway
My lips stick to her neck like honey.
As I try to pry the pain from those lips,
Her skin melts into my fingertips.
Pores exchange their whispers.
The ******* buzz of electric
Synapsis soon surges through flesh,
Contextualizing the vitality of breath.
I suffocate as my soul drips like molasses
Down the small of her back.
The body is the mind—
You try to help it, but the perfume
Of her heat hypnotizes you.
Just let it go, let the sugar consume you.
Her lips stick to mine in the morning.
there was a warmth inside me
a purity i never thought could even come to me
it filled every crevice within me, no space was left inside of me
and then it slowly dripped out like molasses
slowly but surely dripping out with its sweet warmth leaving with it
was like rolling my heart in glass
left me with tiny wounds i have no way of fixing
but the sweet feeling i once had with you
i feel my body yearn for it
like it yearned for pain once
it doesnt want you
it wants the warmth and purity you once made me feel
the all consuming, head to toe, ever so sure love
— The End —