26 April 2016

Cold Pint

Eggs and cream frozen into confection
Eliciting confession in flavored bliss
Mint presents cool but not that fake green kind
Which lies and says that anything green must be good

The mint is balanced by the crunch of
Feeling a bit forbidden
Perhaps even salty amongst the sugary sweet
The frozen feast

I am eaten in one directly from the container
Forcing warm tear-covered hands to ice over
Providing comfort where others have failed

Perhaps I can be their one true friend

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