Tasting

written with The_Fool


Resilient consequences make for manic fantasies,
so close your eyes and await the candy-floss hurricane.
You can feel the tides lapping away at distant shores,

and distant shores respond in laughter and sweet erosion
of proper posture into some semblance of liquid decadence.
Sugar-sticky, we carry the taste of that storm,

sharing sweetness as we swelter in our heat.
“Let’s make this one sizzle,” is what I would murmur.
Clothing puddles at their feet. Skin on skin makes for great heat,

fattening our desires with high-calorie visions,
Taunted by tastes so sweet. “Darling can I just nibble a little?”
And we fall into the honey-storm’s eye, knowing there is more to come.

Tantalizing taste of sugarsex sears through our souls, timeless.
So we wait out the blizzard with confection-tinged ache,
living out manic fantasies, tasting lust, tasting need, tasting life,
smiling to the world, knowing the delicious consequences.