Letters to a person I'll never send

Sticky

Sweet,
Sticky,
Hot caramel runs down my hand.
I lick it before it can run farther,
it reminds me of you.
Rough around the edges,
but once it settles,
beautiful symphonies of different feelings.
Some new, some resurfaced.
All of them sweetly familiar.
Just like caramel,
smooth, sweet, but sticky.
I do not like sticky.