Taste. Perfection.


We could float in oblivion next to metaphors and endless personification
We could trip for hours on nothing while realizing that the glitter taste buds on our tongues weren't meant for just anything
Floating above streetlamps and paved roads, all I wish is to see your wings next to me
But you're dreaming too much, dear.
We've only got forever.



Never.
To taste perfection.



Perfect.



Breathe your gumdrop lungs deep, and we’ll sugar coat this well.
The sun yelling at our opened candy heart
As if we’d melt away with one touch.
We were never meant for this.
Endless.
Wingless.



Melt.



I never saw you floating in that October sky.
Your marshmallow wings higher above me.



And I’m gooey in the center like a s’more.



Syllables never collided so perfectly in your alliteration glitter filled tongue.
And I swear you tasted ever simile within.
I only wish to get a hold of your couplets.
Just to write you something of worth.



While you tear away my candy coated surface.



Dig.

Dig.




My sprinkled lips rubbed off on you and I couldn’t help but fall.
Breathing deep and hearing your gumdrop rhythms.
I knew this wasn’t even close to perfection.
But the only October I’d ever need to feel marshmallow wings hiding under my skin.




I floated while you carved.
Into the Hershey center of something far more golden then a feeble candy heart.
And while you Etched. Perfection.
I became something solid.



Still holding up your metaphors with distant similes.
Counting alliteration while you hid all your personifications.



Realizing that literature should never be mixed with dessert.



Never so Never.
We’ve never had forever.
Endless.
Dig.
Of.
Pleasure.




Just to say we’ve been there.
While risking nothing we’ve ever had.
Dreaming on something that would only last on spoiled stars.
And even then we’d be a hallucination of oblivious perfection.




And yet I’m melting into your throat.
While you choke on glittered taste buds.



Melting at your heartbeat.



Perfection.


Tastes.



Taste.


Perfections.

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