Baklava

 
Guilt, naughty adventure.
Sticky fingers ugh go to the sink.
The knife crunches the shells.
My mouth crunches the flakes.
Sweetness… starting in centre and spreading to the molars
Then liquid, gobbling the sweetness the way it does, making sweetness flow
Galumph
My God, what a shock! I swallowed.
What a loss, my mouth says.  Where did all that liquid gold go?
Into my stomach where they say
The sweetness dries into poison, golden addictive poison.
Ugly thought.  Thank God I’m done with it.  
That was the last bite.