My candy girl

1960s, Addiction, Adoption, color, Flowers, Iris

iris

Green mint breath,
with a predator’s thirst,
her hot steamed plunder,
spanked to affection;
some candy man love.

Her tom-tom palms,
such smooth pony thighs;
candy requires perfection,
ride, boy ride.

The monkey house screams,
call it a wild girl whisper,
her hot scripted words;
I believe in love.

Candy riders, where’s this going?

Going to slaughter,
touching her thighs;
riding the animal slide.

My candy girl,
little steamed fluffer,
she sweats warm venom;
I feel her love.

You’re pretty slow, if you still don’t know.

It’s called taste of the savage,
for ponys and monkeys,
a sweet attraction;
for candy boy love.

She was hired to please,
to guard, above the knee.

You got it now.

It was ‘62 and I was hot.

2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015

5 thoughts on “My candy girl

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