Everything's better with Bluebonnet sonnet

EVERYTHING'S BUTTER WITH BLUE SONNET ON IT

Eschewing your bare neckbone
in the pot of that sweater's softer tone,
Almost barely, just below the tine
fondly tuning the top of a spine
maybe says your mouth, although eyes shine
Shall we better these times?
A bead of sweat on a never neck
cursive script moving immaculate
as periwinkle gloves on porcelain piano keys
a bottle's fondle, the screw top of a moan
a waffle's crinkles, maple's brown embrace

tongues tell the stories, but lips make the face,
dry rub on a rib, butter on a roll
neckbones in gravy, hot biscuits in a bowl.