Mix it up, spin it around,
Start with the flour,
Super simple, just flour,
Everyone comes and adds,
Eggs, Baking
Powders and sodas,
Water, don’t forget the flavors,
Cinnamons,
Cocoa powders,
Vanillas,
You can add anything you want,
Whatever suits you,
The spices of life,
The sugars of you,
Mix it up, spin it around,
My life is the cake,
I can make it by myself,
But I prefer you to help,
Just don’t add anything,
That will make,
No one wanna have a piece.
Just add the right things,
To make it look and taste perfect

Lay your hands on my cold and fragile bottle;
hold the cork and twist me-
gently--
slowly--
don’t stop until you hear me pop;
set my spirit free and I go astray-
into your soul so weary;
close your eyes, smell the earth in me-
herbs, tobaccos, vanillas, trees-
savor the aroma of heavens;
now pour me down in the empty glass-
of love and affection;
touch me with your lonely tongue;
indulge my warmth-
wrapping your delicate heart;
little sips-
after
little sips;
until-
you lose control.

I'm trying to think and figure out something to say to you about what I feel about you. I like you. I deeply care about you. I hope you're doing okay. I just don't want me to say that every time I talk to you. The surprise I got you is your summer vanillas berry perfume and a sketch book with pencils, colored pencils. I want you in my life. Even if we only see each other once in a while. I'll take it and it would mean a lot to me. More than anything. Oh and I do have a secret. I love you, [  ]. I don't know what else to say to you.

Ice cream, OH, Ice cream
I wake up thinking of ice cream.
When hungry or full,
When winter or summer'
When happy or sad,
When skinny, or even fat,
I'm always in need of you .
Your delicious taste of
Strawies,
Chocos, and
Vanillas
drive me to wander and to say "WOW!"
In my mouth you go
and always on my mind to show.

By: Rukhshona B. 12/21/18

Part One:
I think about you and I write. I've rewritten this (the following) letter a few times. And I've always been on the verge of sending this to you every time I write it. But the reason I didn't send it is because I don't know how you're going to react to it. I'm fine thinking it. I'm fine saying it. But I'm nervous about how you're going to react. Nervous about what you're going to think about it. Nervous about what you're going to say about it. Say the word and I will send it. Say nothing and I won't. I'll keep it to myself forever.

Part Two:
My Dear [  ],

I'm thinking about you. I can't stop thinking about you. Being with you is the best thing in my life. It might be too early to think and say those things, but I can't help it. I feel it. I feel that way.

I want to be there with you. But the memory of you must hold me over until I see you again. Until then.
I find you so beautiful. Inside and out. I love your smile. When we were together, I am so into you. I am captivated by you. I keep looking at you.

I like you. I deeply care about you. The surprise I got you is your summer vanillas berry perfume and a sketch book with pencils, colored pencils.

You are special. You have a special place in my heart. I want you in my life. Even if we only see each other once in a while. I'll take it and it would mean a lot to me. More than anything. Oh and I do have a secret to tell you. I love you, [  ]. I belong to you. Heart, body, and soul.
Yours,

Part Three:
. . .

Another dusk rose, another day fell
sometimes the gray smiled, sometimes the sun bawled
sun-ripe rays cast dusty shadows;
A tinkling tear tumbled through the atmosphere.

In those days I played with fire on the school playground,
and I cradled a minnow waiting at heaven's door.
In the moonlight, green eyes called me legend,
soft-haired royalty grew oceans of pine trees
that still shatter on every shore.
I've touched hands with the universe himself,
and I once slept on a lemon galaxy floor.
//each time, dandelion dust melted with candles, forgotten by those who needed nothing more.

Every day blackberries faded and vanillas would rot,
and cocoa butter was sold by those
who don't dissipate at the slightest touch.
So I painted every sunrise
with pitch black berry juice
and I ate my cinnamon toast
but still I thought of you.

Ah yes, here we are again.
Another heartbreak, each greater than the passed.
I long to bid adieu to the soft green grass
for I know that some day, it will cut me to my last.

Now love lays still with others' long lost past
wrapped softly under the greenest grass
cradled softly under
and my skin of nebulae and crescent stars
crawls, tattoo smudged with bittersweet earth.

chocolate godiva hair
          plush pinks
curving
          more than I could
heaven vanillas
          must have tasted
like the almonds
          her skins olive
oiled up for summer
          tasteful photos
you're there too
          in the pools
          reflection
i wish i could
have been        her
selling my sanity
          for an IG
or a glass half empty

The choices made between adults
behind closed doors or in a club
are the world they all indulge
without permission of the crowd
passing boundaries most adhere
in pursuit of painful joy
releasing more than most can see
upon requests of misery

the scenery may seem extreme
mocking norms vanillas seek
access given is power based
sourced from assent all convey
sadly more will mock intent
beyond the ones that can’t relate
these are heretics of the life
full of power they contrive

fools acting like small gods
even though none were ordained
except for a brief time
and even then they’re cast aside
there are none above the rest
outside of choices in a scene
put out of mind the pundit’s whine
that buzzing sound none should mind

please do as little as you wish
or strive to take in the world
safety held to the *******
allows for actions in full consent
these choices are singular
made by the one without regret
when the pleasures are much more
than innocence turned outward.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190418.