Part 1 of 2

were the first,
the beginning.

I took you from your purpose made
transparent plastic container and
left your sibling there amongst
your crums and flakes, likely to
be consumed at a later date.

You sat delicately on four of my
greedy and somewhat ghostly fingers
as i transported you to my seat.
I then with care, rivaled only by
the handling of a cherished childhood toy
or a richly garnished antique, placed
you calmly adjacent to the exhaust fan
of the garish video projector.

This complex device
shared a great deal of the qualities
a typical oven possesses, this evening
it would warm my treat as proxy for
our metal oven which remained
cold, silent and still
in the kitchen.

I would enjoy you,
your crisp pastry shell
and your somewhat molten and flowing
chocolate filling which was held in the
cave like interior, destined to swell
as it accommodated the heat my make-shift
oven would unleash upon it.

were cherished
and shall never be forgotten.

Part 2 of 2

Second, don't remember you so well.
Likely ravaged in a fit of gluttonous rage.

Last edited by bowl of oranges at Dec 29, 2009,
i hate the fact that this was written about a dessert. although it may be a metaphor for something else, most likely a girl or boy, im going to say its just about the dessert or whatever.

beautifully written and executed though. seriously, very clever and enjoyable to read.