They said he had a silver tongue, but his golden words were honey for her heartache. The sweet balm took the burn away and this once, just this once, the words did not fade with time but lived on in truth and in the actions he delivered.
Oh let me be your breakfast
Oh let me be your breakfast pastry
I’m slightly salt yet sweet, so tasty
I’ll be the froth upon your coffee
Your doughnut nibbled softly
Spread me jamly on your brioche
Or your plain bread if you’re not that posh
Let me be there, your strong builder’s tea,
As you start another day, with tea, and you, and me.
I whisper a wish to you to dream of honey. And if you dream, and if you dream of honey, remember the sweetness when you awake, and think of me.
One by one, he swallowed the jewels
like sweeties. He smiled toothily until the largest caught in his throat. Greed is not good.
Skin salt, sweet lips
The taste of the sea stayed with Steno though he washed his mouth with wine and ate his meal of honey. The night would be long.
Almost a smile
It is the almost a smile, the ghost of a smile, the was that a smile, that makes the badness so sweet.
to sweetly, smoothly, dry
Wading into the sea
Wading into the sea up to my waist
I cup a handful of its water in my hand.
On my tongue it is cool and sweet
I dive in, deep, and touch the silver sand.
Cool breeze soft whispers.
Sweet fruit salt memories.
The middle ‘s’
The snow had brought down the middle ‘s’ from the sweetshop sign but the old folks didn’t care. They’d buy their soft toffees and dance.