Bittersweets

To love you some is to singe you steadily.
Something I couldn't decide inside to do too heavily.
As you sit sunken already heavenly.
You slowly twist, trying your best to shoo those,
Whose moods irk you.
Throw a hornless Joker at you,
And like Butterscotch buttons,
You crunch.
Coquettish.

With slightly sore seeing spheres
You suck on sweetly sour Sherbet circles;
To my abused amusement
I can’t start alone.

Just simply you.
In the way that tickles blood.
As stolen blue bottles set to sit amongst the tops,
We in such solemn stiff daylight flourish.
Dressing down in town, like certain flies.
It shades like glass, a sandy disposition.
Lustful.

Under the rosy hood starts the seething flood.
Go on as you mean to end.
Spur the thud.
I’ll rustle something up so you can still
Purr and nod.

Willingly woven like these spidery conversations.
Crushed under foot or flower.
As he is himself shrouded in shallow advice.
Like clasped fingers calmly clammy.
With bitter toffee teeth
It bites like tomorrow.

Trying dryly to defy all others
Just lies, as they are lying.
I spy with my little eye
Smiling.
Like The Shining.

Strawberries in the showers
Soaked in such biting Sunday shine.
Something divine tonight.
Waiting on the right light
To tie the knot.
Door ajar
You ignite glowworms.
Just for a start.

When did the time go?
We twisted the talk as we chewed.
On crusty food, that glued problem proverbs together.
Whist dreaded bread sticks snapped to a strange glass cracked,
The rhythm.
The pulse.
The water.
And the aftermath.
Of all that follows that.