Dearest Ice-Cream Cone

In the spirit of summer-Dearest ice-cream cone, I don’t want to lick you smooth and crunch your cookie crumble. I have the notion to hold you up right and watch you melt. Feel how slow and sticky and wet you drip down my arm-between my fingers. I don’t want to react properly or normally. I want to sit sullenly and stare-receive your expressions. The aesthetic is pleasing. -Gracie 🙂

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