Ever since I see your peel,
Deep within this heart I feel,
The emotion that I cannot deal,
My fetish love that's for real.
I love to touch the skin you have,
It is so smooth and silky and suave,
And your smell is a passionfruit for me,
That's my great admiration to thee.
But when I burn up your ecstasy,
You give me that little fantasy,
Then, you've been melting helplessly,
Leaving the fragrance of a blackberry.
If again I wanted to smell or touch you,
I need a close room to hide you,
And I have to outlay my money,
Just to have your company.
Maybe you are loved by your pinkish color,
And that lovely passionfruit-like odor,
But you are not a genuine afterall,
Because you are just a scented candle.
{a poem made due to addiction to pink scented candles hehehe that's a decade ago, btw)