you are a piece of melted candy
sprawled onto these cheap white sheets.
you stain the bed with futile attachments and muddled whispers,
but i don't mind cleaning up after you and all our mistakes
i don't mind making things clear for you of what we are
and what we can be.
caramel, i think, is the color
to best describe you.
maybe honey glazed chocolate
or something equally savory.
YOU ARE READING
the inevitability of wrinkled bedsheets
Poetrythe life of two, shown in one ~a bunch of sappy lovey-dovey stuff that will probably make you vomit blood~