“Why is He so Sweet?”
Don’t sell me candy to lick
or
sugar-coated falsehoods to suck.
I am not a good aggressor,
you will have to come to me first.
I think your brooding is sexy, but it doesn’t taste
all that good, black licorice is better than you
when you radiate agitation.
Here you are, a grown man made of molasses
thick as a forest Maple and as tall as one.
But, you might be too sweet…
I cannot tell if this is really you!
I mean I already have a couple of cavities,
past mistakes with tasty treats, I was mistreated
in the end.
You are so overwhelming,
coming to me smelling of gingerbread and
forbidden delights, such fragrant, flagrant, charm.
You act for all the world as if you don’t know
you are turning me into taffy, sticky and slow
to pull apart like legs craving your embrace…
Another kind of sap.
Even when it’s Winter in Vermont and sap
is dripping from the tree’s core, the sap is heated–
Let us make lollipops when it hardens or maybe
just lick our fingers one by one.
The slick sound of smacking lips,
will cause the night to become foggy
with pleasure.
And what could be sweeter than you right now?
