Contributor: Brooke Banister
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When you’re near thoughts dribble down my chin, like honey
It’s a sticky situation, too sweet for a girl like me,
this feeling is distracting.
Would I be pinned a lustful trader? would it be known by every stranger?
With delightful things, unpleasant ones seem so bearable… your loveliness outweighs my silly foolish bothers.
but as expected, sitting honey starts to itch. I can’t sit still with such an urge setting fire to my skin-
Setting fire to my lips,
Spreading quickly to my hips,
Such temptation should be quenched, please pour honey on my hips
Please, Would you? Could you?
…punish me with a kiss
I’m sure you’ve heard that honey never dates,
time is on our side my sweet.
Remaining ageless, your stream of honey flows and
Honey, I promise you are my forever friend.
Honey, you see it streaming? Streaming thickly through my lips
I wish you could dabble your tasty kisses, down past my sticky chin.
Find my pot of honey,
a jar with one name but two meanings (now lost)
And surely then, you’ll win.
You won, you stole my pot of honey
you gobbled up my thick liquid gold, took a dollop of my youth
You’ve left me empty, nothing sweet or golden in me..
Like a busy bee searching for precious pollen, I am making something out of barely nothing.
Never again will I give my full supply, it sinks to quickly when laid on top of such a lie
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I'm Brooke & occasionally creative genius, in my opinion, strikes, then I write. I want someone to love my poems like they would their child.
