Cauliflower, cotton candy,
Collective counted sheep above,
Cover, hover, right above her,
Shadows shade, pure as a dove.

Puffing, huffing, never bluffing,
Painted promise in the sky,
Floating feeling, never leaving,
Loving until you draw nigh.

Floating, lifting, gravity shifting
Ascending higher, evermore.
Still, I reach for cotton candy,
‘Til it becomes my only floor.

sky of white cotton
a rusty blackbird cloud sweeps!
the grassy knoll sways

Cotton candy melts in one's mouth.
It makes a kid and adult smile.
It matches mood, as one walks through fair.

But does anyone stop and realize how unhealthy it is?

You want this
swelling rise of swollen self
that drowns my thoughts
in blood that throbs

the slickest steps always
slip the best
when pressed
hydrant-pressure pulses
In that slow build

You wind around me
tight
as we settle into that fractured time
when I am yours and you are mine

connected  

I growl,
a bear in heat
you squirm and entreat me
to make love to you
treat you like my princess
your ******* scream at you to be
as they graze the cotton sheets

Melded
lubricated to stop the high tension
smoking burn of friction
the slap of your *** as you writhe back
consuming me
***** deep
in your centre

My fingers clasp into your hips
holding the depth
my eyes closed
you smell of lilacs and berries
if they had been slathered in sin
and served up in piping hot lust

you sound like heaven
echoing through my blood stream
the thud of my heart screaming your name

breathe
I command myself to stay with you
as my hands let you ease off of
my ****
you take full advantage  
there on your knees and I am vulnerable
to your slick
to your wet...

(Too right, I'm just a man)

all you needed was an inch of freedom
to rock forwad then slam your cheeky control
back onto me

that slick sound that
unmistakable ***** ******* sound
slops against my thighs

the invite to drive
me into a frenzy
the want  
the need to please
be pleased
freed from thought and reason

Shower me in your lust
soak the sheets
moments before I shower you with mine
the hot splash
on your back
as we lose control together

My fear is like a worn blanket;
it keeps me bundled safe from cold,
Protects me from intruding talons
that reach to break frail bones.

Its edges are torn and tattered;
Hairy strings scratch at my throat.
I sometimes hold it all too tightly
and it wraps around my soul.

It sees that scary people scare me,
and knows that everyone is scary.
But this blanket isn’t just a haven,
the people claim it “unhealthy”.

They tear at fraying threads and seams
and I screech for them to stop.
It’s so comfortable and warm in here,
and it very rarely gets too hot.

I’ve grown accustomed to its feeling,
but the mad people do not care.
They tell me “Be more social.
The world shouldn’t scare you dear.”

But this itchy blanket shields my body
when people venture far too close.
When they try to shove ideals and dreams,
down an already suffocating throat.

Why can’t the scary people see
That this blanket is home, is mine?
They cause the frightful disrupt.
They make the blanket make me blind.