sugar-shower

A metal-edged and treacherous one
made reckless motions towards,
showering sleek cheek-kisses
(mwah! mwah!) and lovely exclamations
of exaggerated estimation
of our closeness,
our knowingness (of each other),
and the time that had lapsed
since we had last met.

Hot feet wish to flee
her glacial vacancy of face,
the sugary-plum dahlings and
oh-so tweety pie embrace.
Wrapped in tinkly tin foil, covering treats
for half-rotten teeth
she makes me feel foul;
sugar-coated and sticky,
like my mouth after coke.

Shaking free, testing no holes
have been singed in the soul of me,
I exit this vacuous acidity.
She genuinely scares - empty bird,
pecking away at the world!
Terrified and tired I lock the door,
pull the cord and raid the treasure trove I find here.

Lavender shower gel and running water,
(imagine, momentarily, digging a bore hole?)
Such products give way to a freshened smell.
Artificially cleansed, a vile smile;
"Well gee kids, isn't that swell!"