You are the sculptor
Forging, bending, and baking
And I watched
An alphabet of shapes
Emerge from the outlines
Pitted gold and rippled
and smelling of spices.

It is a metal
Strong and resilient;
It is a pastry.
This strange mixture
Of metal and sweetness:
Flexible of the world-
Like the world, it is thin.

Dream-logic dictated
That i take a bite
And it tasted of - gold
And hazelnut
And fruit sugar

A piece of the world and
A part of you.

I feel you step closer
And all I could see was
Your smile,
Your question: do you like it?
And I could only nod,
Slowly starting to heal,
Blooming green and gold.

Oh, let me heal a little more
To read in our new alphabet
To regain the strength to lean in
And kiss you.