A whole piece of cake

In exchange to a slice of your head,

Fed you with excessive sweetness

And made me famish for your entire mind.


I recall the nights

Of your faraway look almost imperceptible,

The riddle of your smile

And your tales of departure.

With nicotine on your lips

And caffeine on mine,

I was the silent listener

Of your careless narrative.


Such brief moments harbored inside me,

When like your furtive grin

And sly glances, ensnared my thoughts

Craving more from fragments of your soul.


As time made its scarcity known

And fondness its urgent manifestation,

The sugar note and saccharine gift

Snatched you completely away from me.


Today in coffee city

Alone or with company,

I relive a fraction of yesterday

Out of the same blend of coffee

And from the small portion of the same cake flavor.


Smoke from cigars fills the air

Like wispy apparition of yours

I make out on every stranger’s face

Across the other tables.

A sip of coffee and a bit of cake

Serve as reminders if not comfort

Of how little you cared to say goodbye,

Leaving a bittersweet aftertaste.


I stir this cup

Divining the future,

And all I see is my self.

Over the counter today and tomorrow

My Italian tongue says, “Tiramisu.”

As my English heart whispers, “Pick me up.”


Maybe then as liquids turn

And as circles run.

I will find my own reflection

In your staring eyes.

╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮
Coffee-soaked ladyfingers
Sweet amaretto
Mascarpone, eggs, sugar =
thick vanilla cream
Layer on fingers
Dust cocoa
Chill!
╰⊰✿⊱╮

To M.

See, I should have kissed you.

I should have kissed you when I had the chance to. Should have pulled you closer, stood on my tiptoes, my hand tightly clutching your neck, and kissed you full on the mouth. Should have run my fingers through your spiky hair, smiling as your arms closed around me.

I should have found you, the taste of tiramisu still on my lips, and I should have kissed you, giving you a taste of the happiness in a box that you'd handed me so timidly.

Your voice still rings loud and clear in my head, I hear it when I read your messages, that distinctive accent, eyebrows raised, cheekbones moving. And that smile, so sly and cunning, your lips slightly upturned. I *should have kissed those lips when I had the chance to do so. Then and there, among tears and sporadic, almost desperate hugs, I should have kissed you. When you held on to me for just a little longer, your hug tight, your hands running along my back, I should have traced your lips with mine. I should have sealed that promise with a kiss.


"You never see a person only once in a lifetime," you whispered in my ear, your breath tickling me. "That's a promise," I choked on tears, "You hear me, it's a promise."


I should have kissed you; instead, I hugged you once again as you held me tightly and rubbed my back. I should have just reached out. Fate or whatever mystical force there is ******* us up pretty badly. If only I'd met you earlier. If only I'd known you before I got mixed up with the wrong person. I wish we'd had more time. I wish I'd done a lot of things differently. My heart drops in my stomach every time you say you miss me. Your voice will fade away. I won't be able to conjure up your face without looking at pictures, and all your familiar features will be blurred by time and memory. The ephemeral imprint of your skin against mine will soon be gone forever. My heart will grow cold.


The taste of tiramisu will linger, though. Always in the back of my mind, the unanswered question of what it would be like to taste it from your lips. Have tiramisu some time. I hope it tastes like me. You never see a person only once in a lifetime, but perhaps you only have one chance to kiss.

I should have kissed you.

I have something silly to say
and I am saying it anyway,
I want to tell Tiramisu
"Tiramisu, I love you."

And you may scoff at what I said,
and may not believe what you just read,
but I must confess my words are true
as my love for Tiramisu.

you wanted to invite him in because
he didn't seem too interested in coming inside --
if he was too eager, you'd be
suspicious,
and it's nice finally meeting someone who doesn't
want something from you,
fascinated,
you offer him your dearest hospitality,
and you feed him but he
refuses, and you think
wow he's so polite
but he actually hates tiramisu
and he doesn't admit it
until you offer to give him tiramisu every night for the rest of his life

I wasn’t vulnerable to you
I wasn’t hypnotized by your eyes
Your smile did not make me swoon
but I was oblivious to your lies

I had just recently thrown out a delicious cake –

only weeks later I am finding tiramisu,
not exactly in a pastry shop…

but nevertheless it was delectable
unbelievably creamy, with just the right amount of espresso to give it a kick.
Oh how I devoured its luscious flavor,
most people say to eat slowly,
take in every aspect and cherish every bite.

Don’t get me wrong – I usually do…
I try to anyway….
if there’s a fresh made dessert,
and if I’m hungry,
I am going to want it.

Only after having eaten this tiramisu
and licked the plate clean,
did I find out that it was made with spoiled crème…

I should have known.
I’m lactose and tolerant anyway.

It was so good –
unlike anything I had ever had before…

You came out of nowhere,
your charm and personality perfected
after hours of practice.
Well I am sorry to say that it worked.
You won.
******* I hate regrets,
but your game is done.
still, it’s gonna be awhile before I’m over this one.