Just look at the art of these
cloud-like rows of conics—
what if just one macaron
holds the art too of what
we do not dare say?
We are sugary shells…anticipating…
crumbling…….. like moments……
—suspended between cream and craving—
we almost speak of it!
—assortments of unspeakables—
but we don’t.
Categories:
macaron, allegory, appreciation, food, relationship,
Form: Free verse