Syrup

by lunchlimited

A lizard spoke from the rafters requesting a second helping of syrup. My dear friend I try, but I know not where I left it. In secret I think of the room where Scarlet prepares her pancakes and often winks at me. Lizard leaves quickly for another great elsewhere whistling off key. It is true I keep many secrets from him, but I will have no syrup on my ceiling. 

Ben Conley