S’more Time
I wish I would want to be this marshmallow
-skewered, toasted, and squashed— between
waxy chocolate
and
Half-stale graham crackers
to be made of marrow and formed of fluff, desired &
delighted by your desire for me
to be worried fewer times that I will be consumed by
my softness
Digested without tasting
Expelled as a waste of calories and time.
I wish you would want to savor this campfire delight, a
snack you’ll have made of, my sweetness &Trust
that you’ll
not lose me to the fire
2 thoughts on "S’more Time"
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this is very clever and poignant. Love the s’more metaphor.
I’ve enjoyed your poems this month!