Sweet in sound, sticky to the touch.
To the tip of our tongue.
To cross words and become crass.
Minced words, eyes wandering; some of these folks smoke too much grass.
Some ignoring the meaning of class.
Minimally clothed, words bordering on tasteless; their voices hoarse, their clothing rebated.
Nevertheless, the egos inflated.
A common class; perhaps a demeaning observation.
Those longing for conversation.
Profound or devout proclamations.
Molasses; words joined by uniform bliss.
Words turned to voices turning into a hiss.
The sweetness of looking at ignorant faces.
Briefly unfazed by outside spaces.
Molasses, one word away from a sticky situation.
Molasses; going home with the questionable person following a charming salutation.
Molasses everywhere.
Molasses, it binds us as we internally swear.
About the Creator
Andrew Dominguez
Greetings! My name is Andrew Dominguez. I am a LA-based writer with a passion for creating romantic and horror narratives, sometimes diving into eroticism. Hopefully my daily wanderings will enrich your life in some way. Enjoy!
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