My Ode to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups
Oh, disk of crimped delight- a UFO to my heart.
Abduct my sense of control; I want you inside me.
There you all dressed all coquettish in your pleated
school girl uniform. I pull the skirt down a bit to reveal
your smooth finery.
The first bite is like Bacchus's first sip of wine;
I won't stop until I have all of you.
The chocolate has a bite that gives way to
the crumbly salty peanut filling
that sends three taste buds asunder.
Oh bliss to be. Oh, bliss to be: Salty, Sweet, and Savory.
Tart, Bitter, and Spicy are left wanting
as Salty, Sweet, and Savory delve in
their orgy of decadent debauchery.
The isolated flavors watch with yearning, yearning, YEARNING
to be part of the flavor olympics held before them.
The chocolate lunges with in a perfect arc and stumbles in
a forgiving sandpit that settles the fall with subtle hints of
savory, sweet, and salty peanut.
Then it's the next event.
The mouth and tongue tumble and somersault and pirouette
as they savor the essence
of this cosmic anomaly.
Oh, Reese's. The apostrophe means I'm all yours.
But Nibbling bit by bit is so unfulfilling. I can't take it any more.
I want all of you.
The rest of the skirt comes off and in an explosion, the flavor saucer is
gone.
