I want to be the last girl
lingering in his mind
my promised appearance
gathering his friends
around the kitchen table
my sweet temptation
tingling in his belly
my sugar
making him salivate
he inhales deep
trying to grasp at the curls
of my scent
rising into the plaster ceiling
his memory of my
chocolate frosted love so
bewitching
that he forgets the aches
that I caused him
when he forget to save room for
dark leafy greens
I want to be his expectation
of warm chocolate cake
not the sticky
grease sopped
heavily regretted
empty platted conclusion
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