Licorice

If you, my dear, were a candy you would be

Black licorice

(I hear you scoff)

Because, you see, I fucking love black licorice

And all the world can rot, if it disagrees

My moon you are

the roni in all macs

that hands have made and palates graced

The zest in lemons' vim

And I would mourn a world, oh endlessly

That you were never in