3. Smile

(To the boy who craved for chocolate, but got an afternoon delight ;-)

I see him watching the pudding on my plate.

I approach.

I ask if he wanted to share.

He smiles and nods a little shyness into the air. 


He gestures to the seat.

I sit, at ease.

I hook a swirl of icing with my index. 


Then dip my tongue on the morsel. 


I offer the same wet morsel.

He smiles a different smile.

He licks the icing stained with my taste.

Hungry, he sucks the index.

Soft, at first.

Warm, the next.

A promise of more.

He bites.

I smirk.

A promise of pain.

He finishes off the cream. 

I smell my death.

It cannot wait.