Golden Lips

She's got these golden lips...don't be rude; they're on her face...

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It's been said those she caresses with her verbs turn to... don't be rude, they're on her face...

She's got a Midas touch, with her iteration she causes... don't be rude,. They're on her face...

Those lips of gold shine brighter than the noonday sun. They utter truths you're not ready to hear. You better have a beer. Don't be rude. They're on her face...

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Golden lips sink ships, I once heard her utter, quick she's coming pull down the shutter...don't be rude they're on her face...

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She's got these golden lips, they will whisper half truths to you in your sleep, dont make a peep! Don't be rude they're on her face...

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Her lips, they're golden and on her face. What did you think I was talking about?!

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Empty

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Whatcha doing there? Hiding in the shrubs...are you taking a rest? Sometime to yourself?

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So pretty and shiny, you should be on centre stage where all can admire you. The stage is a cage I hear you whisper.

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You look unfulfilled, empty and discarded.

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Here come stand with me and I'll make you feel safe.

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Oh sorry, you want to be there? On your own quietly watching and observing as the world walks by. What's that you don't want to be noticed? But why?

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Have you been partying, putting out your best but now it's time to have a rest? You look like an extrovert, but you tell me you need time to revert, back, to your natural state.

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I want to celebrate you, come stand with me. We can both stand and stare and not be aware.

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Aware of what the world at large, there is no charge we just want to look at you.

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Maybe I misunderstood, I could, I guess leave you be, to set your free in your home in the shrubs.

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Maybe I'm just jealous you have fulfilled your purpose, and I am yet to realise mine.

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Thank you for your time, I'm sure we'll both be fine.

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Love Letter to My Brownie

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I need something sweet, something comforting. I want all the texture, soft hard, crisp and gooey all at once.

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The depth of your flavour astounds me. You have a gentle sweetness, that completes the missing element for me at this moment.

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I bite into you, and you feel firm, but then you give way to a little crunch.

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My mouth is overwhelmed with sensation as the texture softens again. I chew slowly wanting to savour every last moment...there's something hard and I realise its a chocolate chunk just reinforcing the decadent flavour.

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Starting slowly, I tear small pieces off, you get under my nails, but i'll suck my fingers.

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Before I realiseI'm doing it, I'm tearing bigger and bigger pieces off and eating quicker. There is an urgency that has taken over. I need you in my mouth.

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I'm careful not to spill your crumbs, nothing is wasted.

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I look down and you are gone. Just a fleeting moment in time, the flavour of you lingers in my mouth...if no one is around, I'll lick the paper and wish I had more.

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One is enough, some pleasures are only meant to be transient, to move in and out of our lives so we fully appreciate them...

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I Made Dinner

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I made dinner, did you see?

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I made dinner, not for me.

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I baked and cooked and I stood by the stove.

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I sweated and slaved, and what did he crave?

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I made dinner did you see?

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I cooked and I steamed and preened.

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To make it look good did you see?

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I made dinner but I burnt it.

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If you look in the pan on the stove you'll see there is dinner in there for you, not for me.

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