Pudding pretends

It wants you to think it is ice cream one minute

And iceing sugar the next

Pudding is presumtuous

It fills your mouth right up

And tries to make your tongue get stuck

Pudding is proud

It sticky sweetness elevates it beyond the norm

And it slides with elegant smoothness down your throat

Pudding is powerful

It is not broken, but rather gloppily separates

It settles with foreboding weight in your stomach



The End

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