When your lips taste like
the rarest sensation—
candy-floss-spun-carnations,
trapping in wafts of allure,
I can’t help but wish for
more instances such as this,
to never get pruned
too short or early,
so our novel chemistry
won’t falter.
When your lips taste like
the rarest sensation—
candy-floss-spun-carnations,
trapping in wafts of allure,
I can’t help but wish for
more instances such as this,
to never get pruned
too short or early,
so our novel chemistry
won’t falter.