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chocolate vanilla strawberry
by Angela ThomasYou are that perfect bite of neopolitan ice cream. You're back
on my phone, leaving me sweet messages with the soft voice
that feels like velvet on the back of my hand. They say not to
touch fire with your palm because your hand will instinctively
curl around the hot object. You are molten to me. I don't ever
want to start letting go. Did you know that I sleep better with
you on the brain? Better with your ring on my finger? Better with
your hands pressed closely to my chest, and tangeled between
my ten fleshy digits, warped and held stiff with sleep. You make
sense when no one else can talk it into me - sending me into a
meditative state where pain doesn't register and the confines
of the real world seem to be missing from the play. You send
me light breezes, cotton clouds of calm, a stark stainless steel
spoon dipped in chocolate vanilla strawberry and dropped on my tongue. 12/03/2006 Posted on 12/03/2006
Copyright © 2024 Angela Thomas
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 12/03/06 at 06:22 PM Perhaps it is because I love neopolitan ice cream.... or truly because I can feel the spoon drip its offering onto my tongue...this is just marvelous. My POTD. |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/04/06 at 05:26 AM I'd say it was mine, too, if I didn't already pick one earlier. This is just amazing work here. |
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