Fresh and hot. Stewed in
the salty-bitter juices of
potent self; soaked in heady,
sweet spices and aged to
soft, bright, bursting, cut
to small mouthfuls, packed
in brown paper—no
extra charge. (Just enough
to carry in your slick-lined
pocket.)
Burnt black, skewered on
hearty oak, soaked for weeks-
months-years in smokey self
restraint. Rolled in bright-
tart-deep-worst fears and
steamed in heaving, heated
breath; dipped in harsh,
muddled truths and garnished
with wilted love. Served with
a side of minty-dark
satisfaction.
Young and sweet, with
bright-sparked blush of
promise; kneaded with soft
reverence and left to rise
overnight. Baked beneath
the tender warmth of
possibility. Fresh cut and
slathered with tart-crisp
jellied hope.
Hand-plucked and sun-dried;
paired with long rinds of
spiced silence and dark, savory
joy. Fragrant, floral, and freshly
brewed. Recommended with a
splash of cool, milky slumber
and a heaping tablespoon of
self reflection.
Dark and sour. Brewed at a
roiling bubble; chilled in the
furthest darkened corners of
the mind. Poured into a tall glass
and crowned with tangy rinds of
citrus fruits. Full-bodied and
topped with thick inches of
insubstantial head. Not
recommended for those of
delicate palate. Warning:
too much may cause severe
impairment; please consume
responsibly.
By the bottle. Stored in deep,
cool cellars, far beneath the
ribs. Spiced with the
small miracles of a vibrant
life and cut with pungent
stress. Effervescent and
dizzying. Pairs well with
rich caramels and winter-
bitten chocolates.
10¢/bag. Fluffy and crisp-edged,
drenched in golden, melted butter and
topped with sweet, shimmering new
ideas. Portioned into small morsels,
easy to eat. Even after feasting,
there's always room for more.