To the piece of chocolate cake I ate tonight:
What happened? What we had was wonderful. Every bite was more delicious than the last. I never thought it could be like this. But then, just as my enjoyment of you reached its crescendo, you were gone like so much tax refund. Where did you go? Wasn't it good for you, too? Now even my memories are marred by the realization that you were suffering, wasting away, and finally had no choice but to leave my bowl entirely.
Did I commit a faux pas, suggesting that menage a trois with the coffee ice cream? I assumed you would enjoy it, too. And, for awhile, you seemed to--your delicate crumbs wantonly mingling with the rich, brown, melty goodness of the ice cream in a sensual explosion.
Oh, my God. I just realized that the ice cream is gone, too. You two are together. I should have known neither of you could resist the other. After all, I couldn't.
R.I.P., piece of chocolate cake. And coffee ice cream, though our love affair was more about carnal lust than deep, meaningful love, R.I.P. to you, too. I hope you are both happy.