*chimes are brushed*
You are a sustainer of life!
Your fats and sugars are the foundation of all things.
And, for this, I give thanks.
*a gong is struck, its sound permitted to linger in the cool night air for 30 seconds*
Your blessings come in shapes and sizes all!
You are an alabaster chimera.
Cheese? Ice cream? Chocolate milk? Pizza cheese? There is nothing you cannot do.
*a pint glass is smashed against the skull an an Irishman in a Lower East Side tenement, circa 1892*
Yours is a power feminist and egalitarian!
As one can lactate, they can harness your power manifold.
Ewe? Mare? A woman named Terry from Kentucky? All are united in their superiority over my milkless, nigh-
All I seek is a chance to enjoy your fruits without agony!
But, alas, your lactose ravages me, seeking to conquer my entrails like Alexander the world.
In your cruel, pure wisdom, you have decided I am unworthy of your works.
*a bald eagle shrieks from the sky, snatching a buffalo, which screams in the voice of Arnold Schwarzenegger for the entirety its journey back to the eagle’s nest, where it ultimately serves to feed the bird’s young, but not before making peace with the situation*
Such is your purity, that everything desires to be you!
Almonds? Coconut? Soy? All masquerade as milk, but none are.
And, as I half-heartedly accept a world without you by settling for them, like a man dating a less-attractive simulacrum of the the one that got away, my heart gives way from white to black.