sometimes you just want to live
inside a block of pink jello or
sleep on one
at the very least
i kind of wonder
what it would be like to make
an entire city out of jello or maybe
a roller-rink
softer
i miss the days when
running into you was
akin to dessert
and everything melting all over
with only so much time to eat it
i miss the soft ruin that would come from
pressing ourselves together
and the colors
left on the plate
afterward
all that juicy debris
and cream
