lundi, octobre 21, 2013

The Candle Shop Boy Country Song.

  There was a boy in Alabama, who smelled like candied lemon, not because he was a pastry chef, but a candle shop clerk, instead.

He created candle perfume for every boy he loved, and his shop was full of Lilies, Poppy and Amber-Honey scents.

Some had left heavy and masculine scars, like Silver Cedar, Precious Wood, or Iris and Leather, heady fragrances he could not bare anymore.

More fruity feelings sometimes, which always finished with tiny bits of Fig Milk and Grapefruit acid drops, in the mix.

But he was still very much in awe, with the guy that inspired him his best seller treasure. It was not Biscuit, Vanilla, nor Rosebud. He kept the secret for people not to judge, his hidden homosexual beautiful love.

A tall handsome and mysterious man from the south, the musk of Mississippi plantation's fields still stuck on his crotch, came on his horse but could not ride back there.

Cotton Flower was this perfume, which southern ladies loved to sleep with nothing else on. Dreaming, not knowing, of that little sissy passionate sex, forever capture in candle wax, by that boy who smelled of Candied Lemon scent.

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