nonpareil by Shrinithi Sathiyaseelan (17, California)

i didn’t want to learn the name of
the wells above your furrowed flour brows
you 
solemnly set down your mug
crunch.
syrup fills my lungs in a breath that holds 
me 
whisked to wonder
when 
the air turned brittle

---

i trudge through nougat and fudge and all 
our confections that gnawed at my enamel 
to uncover the soft heat that commences 
your caramel anger

but nothing sticks

your pointed stares melt warm underneath the roof of my mouth
and impulse is to
reach my tongue up to it 

​i miss 
mind-numbing ice cream headaches 
when
our language was untangling the knots of licorice lace and throats aflame 
with partings from chocolate liquor confessions 
and
we grew closer through endless emulsification 
secure with secrets because 
hearts could beat both separate and together 

i thought that was love, you said i turned sugar into a swear word

we’re two at a table for four and the ghosts of our childhood want candy for dinner 
so you serve them your bursting passion
and then 
feed me sprinkle static in 
cloying touches and glazed oxymorons
I don’t like when you bring up old news 
don’t you just feel like we’re going nowhere 

but all i desire
is to 
crumble your tempered heart,
and hear
your sweet scream