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What I Am Made of is Who I Am

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What I Am Made of is Who I Am

Marissa Pester

I am chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.
There is no aroma to smell off of this exterior.
No manufactured perfumes to cast a spell to lure you in.
There is no real color. Pale white.
I have small, brown chocolate chip freckles over my skin.
Cute. A dash of different amidst the white landscape they spot.
I am smooth textured and smooth natured
And am perceived as such.
My stomach and thighs, squishy, like the cookie dough that I am made of.
You can swirl me and may try your best to mold me.
I may change in appearance and become soft,
But I am still pale, unexciting, speckled vanilla with a little extra in me,
Should you look close enough.
And if you hold me to your lips, I’ll melt for you.