A Prompt Poem
Three scoops of ice cream, whipped cream, cherries, strawberry and chocolate sludge dripping down the sides,
I am decadent and cold.
I am destined to be consumed, and I will melt until you do.
Three scoops of ice cream, not two, separate one half of me from the other. Am I the banana or the split? Am I two halves or a whole?
Why can’t I be a milkshake? It’s hot outside, and every bite you take consumes a part of me and a part of that which separates me from myself.
I am a dramatic banana. To you, I’ve only existed for a few moments, but before this there was more. There was a tree. A mother. A bundle. A family of us. Torn down and transported, cut up and separated. I can remember when the sun touched my skin! How good it was to be alive. I wondered when I was pulled from that old mother tree, is this life after death?
I am a dramatic banana. Split up and pasted back together with sugar and sweets. I don’t know whether I want to melt or be held together.