45

we hold hands, 
never able to agree on a flavor,
happy to not share.
i want it sweet, so cold 
i can feel the nerves 
in my teeth,
screaming through enamel 

you bite down,
i tell you to go slowly –
you’ll give yourself a bellyache. 
but you want more.

i make requests.
we ask for the whole pint,
but i’d settle for a half.
if they don’t have what we want
we’ll take it to go, 
spoonfuls in the backseat. 

you open your mouth and
i make that airplane sound, 
lovingly churned cream and
sugar destined for your tongue

we lay back, 
stomachs full,
mouths sticky,
sweet tooth still not satiated

Ruthie Barakat

DJ Khalid could never