Black-Suga-Cream

Black-Sugar-Cream. I cram all my letters in a flame. A candle I blow out in secret. The only evidence is the letter of smoke that bursts out, smelling of decaying fervent light. All bursting like a Georgia sky, a peach that landed in Fall’s lap. I write you letters in that cloud of peachy smoke. Secret candle that looks like a rose. Black-Suga-Cream. You blow it all away. It’s a bothersome thing to you.

I melt down to the wick when your pretty name hits my mouth. You can punch my face, I’d still love your salty bite. Each & Every time.

The heavy taste hits me in a groove of grief, a groove of sadness, a groove of oranges that fills me up with citrus-pang-deep. Deep. You fill me deep. The Black-sugar-cream drinks me up deep. You could say

“Don’t say you miss me when you don’t

say hello.”

I’d say

“Black-Suga-Cream, I have my audacity set up the wrong way, it looks like avoidance when all I want to do is

hold you tight.”

I am melting down into a useless gray sludge

still dreaming that you’re high, so high

Higher than the cream rising to the top of fresh milk. It’s when I hear the music of your name

“Moon-Milk-Eyes.”

Then I cry, oh how I cry

The tears are falling deep

But there is no weight

It’s drinking me up to nothing

Black-sugar-cream

Get those honey eyes away from me.