I ate your pie;

you were gone.

I snatched it with no hesitation.

 

You left it on the table

waiting to be eaten.

The warmth of the sun was beaming down on the piece of pie,

and the ice cream was melting.

 

I told myself "No,"

but my cravings were so strong.

It would have been a waste

if not eaten fresh.

 

You came back

and saw my mouth stuffed with sweet dessert.

Your jaw hanging,

envy in your eyes.

 

I’m sorry,

the ice cream was so cold,

and the pie crumbled in my mouth.

 

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