The Dessert

A golden crust of buttery dreams,

flaking like morning sunlight,

holding a secret

too sweet for the rules.

Inside, the heart of the matter:

a cavern of golden-brown magic,

studded with obsidian chips

of rich, rebellious chocolate.

It is a celebration of the forbidden—

the whisk licked clean,

the bowl scraped bare,

now raised to the status of high art

and crowned with a mountain of cream.

One forkful breaks the quiet.

Soft surrender.

A symphony of brown sugar and vanilla,

melting on the tongue,

turning grown-up days

back into wide-eyed wonder.

No baking required

for happiness this pure;

just a spoon, a plate,

and the sweet, sticky joy

of giving in.