I. Am. Vanilla. Boring. Plain. That for which all other creations is a medium.
Oh, to be chocolate. Melanin silk, rich, creamy, indulgent. Oh, chocolate! You black-brown goddess. Serotonin inducing, arousal, excitation embodied.
Woe is me that I’ll never be the succulent, sweet, light strawberry pink – red like kissed lips. Juicy wet kisses, summertime breezes, sticky lustfulness.
Even with rainbow sprinkles, where is the salacious fervor?
I want to be anything. Anything but me.