The color of a
wedding dress, vanilla
in a sugar cone, I am
melting in the sun
rays, dripping
onto the
sidewalk.

Once a marble garbed
in frost, now a
custard filling
spilling, flooding
over the sweet geometry
of its container.

In the wrinkles of the
pavement,
lava of artificial
ingredients and natural
flavors dries,
shape shifting into a
crystal confection.

Supported by the
kindness of
your fingers,
the now unoccupied,
wafer
cracks and crumbles.