Marshmallow

I am a marshmallow melting in cocoa. Watch me spin but never sink. I will vanish when not seen. You will ask, did I melt? Or just jump out? Sip and sip and I dodge each gulp. Defiantly centered, the rim like my crown. Last little marshmallow, greater in fortitude than all empires of man. I stand and you stare. You watch because to drink is to end this. The tango tween you and I. I float and you mope about whatever it is people people over. I like being a marshmallow floating in hot cocoa. Nothing but sugar, so far from your woes. Blessed to be so for such a sweet period. Like mayflies floating by. I am a marshmallow floating in hot cocoa, and you wish you were me.

Cats

claws form flaws on skin

little jaws crunch like pin pricks

whiskers whisper soft

chaos in a box, no locks

little talks from little teeth

You Send Me

Spiraling, like leaves from trees. Tonight I watch you sleep, vigilant to sound. Making record of abnormalities. Ensuring standard deviations consistent of normality. I see you smooth and subtle. Sleek and sweet my teeth hurt to look. You can’t be real, so beautiful and fair staying in my lair letting me lie by your hair. I smell you over and over and over. Nah can’t be real. I am spiraling infatuated and disillusioned. Your hair is pitch black when the lights go out. Eyes like stars and a moonbeam face. I can’t stop staring, sorry, I can’t stop staring. Spiraling like marshmallows and whipped cream. I sit like the flame of a wick. You are my underrealm from which I draw power. I don’t recognize myself and I like it. I am dumfounded, discounted, and demolished by you. You, my dark star, my constant collision. My inevitability, I would find you I know, this feels unreal but I know I would find you in any life. You send me spiraling like stars through space, my heart racing to the finish but we have only begun.

Burnt Orange

Spooky, scary seasonings like pumkin pie whipped cream. Make you gasp with surprise when the whole room smells like leaves. We’re happy that the fall is here we greet it with a screech. We all cheer from our cozy throws with hot cocoa in reach. The wind has dropped like ten degrees and the trees all shake with glee. You see the dead floating by like scooters on the beach. They say it’s too soon for apple pie but this candle is quite neat. The decorations have all gone up and, passing by, we peek. After dark it’s cold and full of creeps. Goosebumps start to fill the air, each draft it brings a cringe. A toasty cozy time to chill and try to have sweet dreams. The are ghouls and ghosts around the see you when you sleep. So just pull your sheets above your head and count those sheep.