i taste sugar on your skin. i
am diabetic. i prick myself yet again
the cold insistence of a blunt needle
my body wants to resist. we don't.
i bite into the pink of my lower lip. the
pain makes me tingle. like your touch.
does a child refuse cotton candy
on grounds that it makes her hands sticky?
or that it leaves behind familiar telltale marks
on untainted fabric? that sweetness
is heady. i dissolve myself in your arms
sugar-spun coils to a welcoming tongue.
you hold on to me. i find form in a pink cloud
your next sugar high. i keep tasting myself
upon your skin.
am diabetic. i prick myself yet again
the cold insistence of a blunt needle
my body wants to resist. we don't.
i bite into the pink of my lower lip. the
pain makes me tingle. like your touch.
does a child refuse cotton candy
on grounds that it makes her hands sticky?
or that it leaves behind familiar telltale marks
on untainted fabric? that sweetness
is heady. i dissolve myself in your arms
sugar-spun coils to a welcoming tongue.
you hold on to me. i find form in a pink cloud
your next sugar high. i keep tasting myself
upon your skin.
Suradha I. is 22, a tentative poet, and would love feedback on @suru_uwu (Twitter).