Surreal Soft Serve

A creamy poem

From a blind date to an open-eye joy ride, down the question-and-answer lane, inside a surreal ice cream shop, full of glass and mirrors, we lost track of time,

barely remembered our names, tongues circling pretzel cones, catching rainbow sprinkles falling from the sky,

a spiral of soft-serve swirling, ice cream slowly melting like sugary waterfalls, strawberry and vanilla puddles of love on the floor.

© 2021 Mark Tulin