• Remember stuffing your face
    with that sticky, gooey, brain-freezing
    ice cream?

    I sure do.

    I thrust my tongue
    at strawberry,
    had culinary intercourse
    with chocolate,
    teased French vanilla
    with my elegant nibbles,
    the milky fluids running
    down the sugary cone,
    the symphony of crackling
    at every bite,
    sweet nectar,
    slipping down my throat
    With my tongue lapping
    the drying flakes
    from the sides of my mouth.
    I lick each and every
    creamy taste,
    down to every last sugar-coated,
    flavored dew drop,
    which leaves me so satisfied
    I could just sit in bed
    with a cigarette.