I speak in weight, and not in air, A sudden message landing there. No tune to hum, or to keep, Just force that jolts you from your seat. Before your mind can even decide, Your body flinches, there’s nowhere to hide. Feel my voice, there is no choice.

A bubble to protect when the damage is done. Among many things that summon me to come, the most common is friction from your feet. Please don’t pop me. Unless you are talking your tablets.

For home remedies and insulin pens, For unfinished rotisserie hens, For open containers and half-empty jars, For easily melting candy bars, For summer memories to beat the heat, Fresh, not frozen, for that leftover treat.

In the pantry it waits, a flavor's delight, Turning dull into bold with every bite.

I come from the East, on a boardwalk by the shore. I am pulled and stretched, born of ocean water, yet never wet. I stick to teeth and fade with time, an oceanside prize wrapped tight in disguise. Chew me slow, for I pull back, I fight to the end, sweet and stubborn, a delicious rare treat.