Cookies, Biscuit, Cakes, and Tarts. Pies, Bettys, Cobblers, Scones, Biscuits, Shortbread's. Eclairs, Napoleons, Ladyfingers, truffles, and ganache'.
To what do I owe these lovelies?
I share with them all that I am, my hips and thighs and my once weightless gait and now I am waiting on my gaits to catch up with the rest of me. Why is it I dream of them with reckless abandon and no self control and how have they become my lover instead of the tall dark and handsome, as sad as this is I know I am not alone. There are alot of us meeting this sweet lover that rests his or her hands on our waists and hips and promise us endless pleasures, but I know they only last so long as the taste lingers on lips and tongues and then they are gone. What a sinful pleasure and we know it isn't right, a love affair that is not what we had hoped it would be.
How do we end this meeting of flavors and sights that tease the eyes with sparkle and fluff?
Will it end, will we kiss the delicate layers goodbye before the evil of it all takes over?
I try to envision the corners of Betty drying up and Napoleon withering next to dear Ladyfinger and all that was good is dead and dying, but out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something glimmering brimming with health and resurrection . I'll visit that vision a time or two but now I have to get back to Napoleon, he is waiting.