Ice Cream

i want to taste the pink of your lips in strawberry.

or melt into the coffee of your flesh.

or find myself in frozen marsh-mellow mounds of

the rocky road you led me down.

your mint chocolate chip breath is just sweet enough;

you will never need to brush your teeth;

you are always minty fresh.

you fed me crunchy, frozen heath brittle

with your vanilla bean scoop within

waffle cone walls losing its crunch.

or you fed me spoonfuls of swirled caramel lies.

you bit the tip of your the fudge-cicle

and offered me the rest.

i held it, waiting for your return

watching it melt

sticky unto my hands and arms, following veins like trails

to un-named campsites of my forearm, dripping off my bent elbows…

i wanted to be the chocolate chips embedded in your vanilla,

covered within your cookie walls.

but you never bit.

i am forever crumbling for you.