Sweet Stuff
As I inhale
the pink swirl of
cotton candy on my breath.
Although I haven't been near it
in years.
Where does it come from?
Is it the world of
sexual confection that
spins around, sticky sweet
like spun sugar
holding fast until
the melting point?
I should taste the
bitterness of cigarettes,
grapes of cheap wine
or the breath of beer.
Although this morning after
the sugar rush whirls
in by mouth
like a searching kiss...
Copyright © Tedi Toca | Year Posted 2007
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