you and your candy-coated cunt
I bought her at candy store; I liked her wrapped, but I loved the faked shades of her sweetness, her sweetness beneath her wrapper. She was every colour of the rainbow, fused and melted together.
I bought her with the change in my pocket, and I took her home to enjoy her.
I peeled her naked, once we were alone. I wanted to get her in mouth as soon as I had her in my hands; I wanted to devour her right there on the street, but I knew she’d be too messy for public consumption.
But once we were alone, I stripped her down, and revealed her form to me, all angular curves and artificial colourings and well, basically, exactly what I wanted.
She was so sweet she made my teeth ache. Too much of her and I’d be on the floor, vomiting up my soul and breakfast. Too little of her, and I’d be angry for days. Months.
She was hard enough to crack a tooth, soft enough to get all sticky on my tongue, like wax melting against my body. Sugary wax, flowing over me, coating me.
I ate her like a snack, yeah. And now I can’t get the taste of her off my lips.