Fantasy difference

My skin be tanned
His be a hideous blue.
Within the day he is the night
And through the night,
Merely a mirage of pixels
A blur on the square box
No one admits that they notice this fault.

I tore out his heart,
Examining its peculiar state
Giddy orange blood shoots itself
Landing in the domes of my whites
The taste was so rejuvenating!
A peach affair with mango’s zang
I moaned, he took back his heart.

He approached my ecstatic state
Licking his orange life from the corner of my lips
For his language, was too unusual
I imagined him saying, quite beautifully
“It’s good, no?”
His lips were like cherries freshly picked
Mine, ordinary and carnivorous
Pulsed up and down (in a sort of rhythm)
His incredibly soft cheeks.

With a gasp of candy happiness,
I drew with my lips a sort of melody
Exclaiming
A different sort of love.