Not hexagonal and yellow
Like if i broke my arm off
A conglomeration of air bubble caverns
and in between small wooden doors
with the name bee embossed
above every tiny letter box
my ode to the crunchie
That i just finished off
Categories:
crunchie, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Articulated words
From your lips...
Soothes more than
Smooth creamed cookie.
Melanin skin tone,
You are...
Makes this cookie green.
Your sapience, very distinct
Making a library curse
Your existence.
Resistence, I sucked
From your crispy nipples
Forming ripples
Down my infant tummy.
Oreo, might be yummy,
Crunchie and sweet;
That mama, can't
Contend with
Your rarebreed
Baked ennead months from your oven.
I became your best torte;
Sweeter than the sweetest,
Your end product.
Kind hearted you are,
Your heart larger
Than Philadelphia city...
Accomodates all with pity.
Like a tulip in the tropical forest
Your warmth beckon one to rest.
Your life, very admirable
Than the sight of a phillerya.
Before you depart,
Record an audio
To soak in while I crunch my Oreo.
©? Rarebreed «2020
Categories:
crunchie, mother,
Form: Ode