If I was an Italian ice
I would be rainbow in color.
The ice someone special would savor
on hot day,
or steamy night.

A night where stars shine bright,
and pleasure echo.

If I was ice cream
I would be covered with whipped cream.
Soft and fluffy,
inviting someone to play in my sugar plum field.

A field where satin sheets cover
and love grows.

If I was a delicious desert.
I would be in a famous bakery.
Strutting my fancy truffle behind store case.
Hoping, that special person would come
to appreciate my craftsmanship.

But alas I am just a sweet human in form
tasty if I invite you into my private back room.