Cinnamon Ice Cream

One scoop of mint-chocolate,
one of cinnamon for me
A chocolate monstrosity of the highest order for you
(You insisted on trying mine,
probably needing to disperse the palette)
Ice cream always did make you 5,
even when I was 5 and you into your 40s

Worried that tasting cinnamon brings
your ghost too close
Instead, I am hankering in its shadow
Perhaps time is relinquishing its hold
to the better memory of you

Went for gelato on Father's Day,
he and I,
to sweetly scour bitter recollections
(He insisted on trying mine)
Takes me for walk dates in Old Town, too
Have yet to try those candy apples in the window

Couldn't before
because caramel tasted like emptiness
on the day I quit eating completely
Yet here I stand before the glass,
craving the impossible

Years of  deprivation melt
He says I taste like caramel and apples
(Such wonderful nonsense must continue)
Cinnamon can now be the shadow of your life

Time is not so strong,
not compared to the business of moving on

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