As I walked to the 7- 11 in the back alleys of my mind
I thought about my candy and what I would find
Not Mars not Snickers forget Three Musketeers
I’ll wait for her milky way when it gets here
A truckload of honey wrapped tight in a box
I keep coming back
As long as she keeps it in stock
She didn’t know I must confess
Hers=She kisses were the best
Wrapped so close wound tightly
Enclosed in some Indefinite secrecy
With every curve holding  closely pressed
Visions of Mounds with cocoa nut stressed
Dark warm chocolate take another look
Every last drop worth tasting I took
Shook took most definitely hooked
My own private pain
An aphrodisiac it’s been said
Baby dark chocolate goes straight to my head
Drop down sweet chocolate fall on me
Unwrap yourself from your misery
Smooth brown flow through channel divine
Sugar so sweet making thighs so high
From the bottom to the top in this silly rhyme
I got to stop
If you were a flame your drip drop game
Would consume me from the bottom to the top
Melting my resolve like a crooked cop
In some passionate crime
How candied sweet taste could make you lose your mind
And as you fix in this private pleasured pain
You course rushing through my vein
While I attempt to  sustain
Chocolate what it/she does to my brain.

Douglas Miles  © 2001