Spun Sugar by Eveline Hood 18+

Your name tastes like spun sugar on my tongue
She said with a smile that lit up her eyes
The fireworks behind her made her glow and
My heart nearly exploded,
Until then, My whole world was a circus
And I the silly fool who stuck his head in the lions mouth night after night
But then, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered my name
Closing her eyes with her lips curved and upturned
I wanted to kiss the corner of her smile and did
She melted against me, sweet as maple candy
Touching me wherever she could reach
Tracing your image with my hands, in my mind
She sighed into my ear when I laughed

·

She burned like a candle, in my arms
The cobwebbed corners of her soul illuminated
As I laid her down on the old bear rug
After glasses of the darkest red wine
That tasted like oak barrels and summer cherries
When she laughed, head thrown back in gleeful giggles
I jumped to my feet and pulled her to me
And laid her down in front of the fire on the old bear rug
Laid her down and loved her, covered her in kisses
My lips memorizing each curve and edge as she chanted her pleasure against my shoulder
Her small even teeth leaving impressions on my skin, and she exploded
Kissing me as she smouldered, my own pleasure lighting her from inside
She shivered and whispered my name
Spun Sugar

·

She called me Spun Sugar from that night on when the lights were low and the firebugs crackled
And all was right with the world in her arms
How she’d laughed as she stared in my eyes and prickled my heart with her wide eyed delight
Consummating our love once again
Linking our bodies with open mouthed gazes
My hands they squeezed her throat as she struggled
Riding the wave of her fight, fading roses we are frozen together
Her heartbeat throbbing in her cheeks, body quivering begging for air

·

But I didn’t let go

·

And looking back now I loved her to death
Those moments that seem insignificant, they stay with you forever
You’ll always remember the way that it felt long after the the thrill is gone
Isn’t it sweeter to recall the love than the rage that came after
Funny,  now that I’m nostalgic,  how the last of her life on her lips
Really did taste like spun sugar

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