yes, up on a high place
yes, inside a *** of honey with sugar,
darling, i would
it’d be slow
and still too
in light pink
yellow
brown earth,
deep

blue,
blue, blue,
blue, blue
blue

and light

singing and thick hands
thick
hair thick

Welcome In --
bright ones say to me
they say to ME

‘Welcome In!’
‘Welcome In!’

Sickly sweet boys fill honey combs like goblin hands in tiny gloves.
They taste like gummy vows and glass letters.
These boys will rot you from the inside out,
painting organs with grainy sugar,
which dissolves to sour acid.
Beware!

Sickly sweet boys know the right flavours,
yet their labels are flawed.
Always lick before biting.
Toothaches are common,
but sugar rushes won’t last forever.

Sickly sweet boys don’t stay sweet for long.
Candy loses tang over time,
coating is just coating.
Inside is a viperous liquid that oozes like oil.
Ebony, boiling, sticky.
Your tongue will never be pink again.

sugar and salt are both appealing
but what happens when you have to choose?

what if i told you that you
had
to
chose

between summer and winter
the milky sheet of snow and hum of the fireplace
creamy melted chocolate and milk swirled into a cozy drink
millions of tiny bursts of color illuminate
every border of every house

but what about the

lazy afternoon sun
and the salt in the air and in your hair and in your mouth
and the ice pops
the sweet
sticky
ice pops that feel
so
good
on your shriveled up tongue

-and what about the way
your skin sparkles
after laying in the
teeny
tiny
rocks
of
the
earth

you may say,
i can't pick both, 
they are
both-
so beautiful

well what if i told you that you have to pick
between things which are
are
equally
loveable.

what if i told you
that if you love two souls

a sun
and a moon

two souls, which are both so rich
and lovely,
that you could only pick one,
which would you pick?

or would you just choose neither?

Thinking of you is a toxic euphoria,
a lovely danger,
you’re a sugar-coated wicked temptation,
comforting hurt,
a beautiful disease.

Look at me all fat from self indulgence
custard cream and chocolate pieces on my face
I barely take a breath
from my gluttony
See me swimming in a vat of cinnamon cream
Big juicy congealed bacon-fat emotions
And this little piggy is hungry

Everything you said was bad
has me spinning
Swimming in it now.
I'm flicking cheesecake at your conditioning
smearing mascarpone over my naked chest
without shame I don't
I don't have shame

Lock me up in your prison of doctrine
But I'll eat through that too eventually
Engorged in self release and painted in '**** that's'

Mousse feels good on my skin
Coats my teeth
Sherbet and berry compote in every orifice
Watch me choke on caramel
Choke on life

Laugh while I lapse into a sugar coma
And cover me in told-you-so's
While I come to,
Diving straight back in wearing only a smile

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.