Hard Candy

Hard Candy

You are the perfect scoop

of chocolate ice cream,

a sphere

broken only by a spoon

softly slicing a part of you

to my softly parted lips,

a lifetime on my hips

sacrificed to your succulence.

You are the moment

milk meets coffee,

melting my bitter taste

for every miracle day

you are still mine in the morning.

You taste like cinnamon buns,

contours of currants

fresh from the oven,

one hundred and seventy Celsius

and clothed in caramelised sugar,

I couldn’t wait for you to cool.

You are the hypnotic grip

of the Demon Headmaster

when I haven’t done my homework,

holding me back after class

until the heat between these pages

could burn a hole to Hell.

One two three, one two three,

if love is to dance

then our drug is the waltz,

undressed till I’m dizzy,

on a bed of diamonds

we become the disassembled finale.

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