Can you taste the tears
in her black forest torte?
how they clung to her lashes 
in long pregnant pauses --
before dropping,
embryonic cysts 
blooming bittersweet 
in layers?

Or how sometimes her sour
skittles its way into the cherry tarts?
The from-scratch crust, cut and rolled, 
pinched and pleated, 
thick-clumped with longing 
for things not fully formed?

All the tender, tangled 
undertones and shortcomings 
sifted and stirred into gifts chilling 
on the second shelf, stacked 
in tins and under domes,
reborn sweet and warm --
her heart served up with 
fork and spoon?

*Buttercream Baroness art by Tracy Porter; Porter Art Guild