From the Candy Snake

Every move you make
every little step
of your rituals
are like chocolate cake



for my soul, my heart,
like a burning flame
for a moth like me,
whispering the name



of your spirit core,
grand and beautiful,
of your time and love
I pray grant me more.



Don't want sugar cubes,
I'll eat you instead;
won't be satisfied
'til I'm in your head.



(Bet I creep you out
like a candy snake,
but you bear with me
as I flail about.)



Want to wear your skin
what's it like to be
perfect in yourself?
Here's a poem from me:



you're soft through and through,
you're like candy floss;
it can't be washed off.
P.S. I love you.