Cricket here, if you couldn't tell by now. Bad Wolf and I are still dragging along painfully through the now-afternoon. There goes improper use of dashes.

I compare everything to candy, so if you're hungry after, be not ashamed my friends.


It started as a simple lie of a friendship.

A hatred of men-save for eachother-and a hazy confusion of a high social position brought them together.

It started as a simple lie of a touch. A serpent's tongue licking warningly at the dog's ears.

Do not speak of such things as this, for when the morning sun begins to grow in the syrup sky behind the cotton candy clouds, I shall not remember your brown sugar kisses, nor your licorice embrace.

The wolf lived by those words whispered by the other, because they rung true. There was no talk of their love, because to the reptile, it didn't exist. Those cold words, that frigid body swallowed every inch, every mesely degree of the kanine's searing love for him. Love that was rejected-love that didn't simply exist-when the glazed morning light of the sun and the Serpent opened their eyes to the new day.

Traces of caramel kisses delving into hoarse pop-rocked voices, twizzler-tangled limbs and hard-candied sorrow and bittersweet horehound regret.

Pure white fur loved the feel of those forgetful black scales.

But that forgetful heart never bothered to remember his old started as a simple lie of a friendship.

A hatred of men-save for eachother-and a hazy confusion of a high social position brought them together.

It started as a simple lie of a touch. A serpent's tongue licking warningly at the dog's ears.

Do not speak of such things as this, for when the morning sun begins to grow in the syrup sky behind the cotton candy clouds, I shall not remember your brown sugar kisses, nor your licorice embrace.

The wolf lived by those words whispered by the other, because they rung true. There was no talk of their love, because to the reptile, it didn't exist. Those cold words, that frigid body swallowed every inch, every mesely degree of the kanine's searing love for him. Love that was rejected-love that didn't simply exist-when the glazed morning light of the sun and the Serpent opened their eyes to the new day.

Traces of caramel kisses delving into hoarse pop-rocked voices, twizzler-tangled limbs and hard-candied sorrow and bittersweet horehound regret.

Pure white fur loved the feel of those forgetful black scales.

But that forgetful heart never bothered to remember his old friend.