my heart is baklava

flaky buttery
pangs of
sweetness
infiltrate
nutty
body

my phyllo
center
soaks
overnight
in
its own
emphasis

possibly
i am
cut
into
elegant
diamonds

possibly
you are
plotting
your next
bake sale

i am ribboned
an artisan
recipe
i am deep-set
your excavation
awaits

laid out
in crusted strips
of sugarthought

braille'd
with clumps
of doubt

totally
indefinitely
for your mouth
only