Soft, Strawberry Ice Cream

Soft, strawberry ice cream drips inside our kiss,
cataclysmic caress up my dress,
and I’m begging for the body I adore to be beyond the reach of others,
for I am falling into an eclipse of affection,
and you must be mine,
or I will cease to exist.

I could barely resist you,
desisting, dashing from your arms as you unload your pent up rage on your subordinates throughout the day,
but always watching,
through spaced out fingertips across shimmering eyes that could never quite quit you,
no matter your issues,
and how sensitive I am to your shouting.

You play the songs of your youth,
and I know them all,
because I am as pretentious as I am pretty,
with playlists from another era.
I am the plaything of a wise warrior,
hushed, heart eyed honey at the heartbreak hotel,
held in the arms of a girl she loves, just a little too much.

I have no doubt in my mind about you,
because I can’t help but hold my lips against your own,
holding out for another,
and then another,
hungry for the feeling of being possessed by my Princess.
Flowers fall from the stable ceiling,
and we connect, caught in a kiss,
swallowing soft, strawberry ice cream.

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