You, like sugar, I desire.
You, like sugar crystals, shine in the light.
You, like sugar, make me high.
And you, like sugar, make me crash.
You, like sugar, I am told to avoid.
You, like sugar, make me regret.
You, like sugar, sicken me.
And you, like sugar, motivate me to change.
There is a man on the corner of 87th and Amsterdam. I do not know him, and he does not know me. He wears a red T-shirt with red sweatpants. He wears a red coat with red shoes. He wears a red ski mask on his face.
Were you put here only to provide contrast?
Your gruesome body zooming in and out of my vision gives something to compare to the flower.
As you reach the end of the hallway, you notice someone behind you. They have their hands full, and they appear to be in a good mood. They are six feet away, and there is no one following them.
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