My Wedding Cake

You are my wedding cake, my bowl of whipped cream.

I taste love and warm, wet delight,

On this night, my night of nights.


You are the fragrant fruit on a laden tree,

And the night air as it passes me.

Touching the echo inside my heart.


You are the story rarely told,

Of beggars turned into emporers,

And the skidding, giddy clouds outside.


You are my homecoming and second sight,

As I enter slowly into this dark night,

Finding at last, sweet oblivion.


You are,

I am,



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