It sits there,
the jello on my fork.
My fork holds the jello like a new born
the jello on my fork
The jello explores the forks many curves,
the jello is content.
But it deserves better.
The jello on my fork.
Sliding through the teeth,
the jello escapes the metal
and lands in the bowl it first came from.
The jello in the bowl.
The fork is lonely,
and seeks another companion.
And dives in to the depths.
After a few seconds it finds a red dream.
The fork cradles its catch.
The jello is happy.
The fork is happy.
The jello on my fork.