Candy Store

My boyfriend loves me,

more than the high,

he was beholden to,

and the wife,

who had his devotion,

until I got my way,

and wrapped my wayward ways,

around his tortured tongue.

 

He tells me I taste

like a candy store,

and he’s thankful for the way I taste,

and for my taste,

in men.

 

He eats me up,

until he’s full,

and has no room,

for the needle,

and the nag,

he left behind.


Order “Stormy Weather” here

Order “Last Of The Greenwich Glamour Girls” here

Order “The Things We Did Last Summer” here

Order “Home Wrecker” here

Listen to”Past Preston” here

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Are You Afraid?
Ladylike
Summer Of Love

RECENT BLOGS
A Letter To My Fifteen Year Old Self
MYSIGN: The Elements
Jim Chapman’s “147 Things” Review

COME FIND ME
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