Lazarus' cake

Humbled
Living by my flower
Up before Sunrise
Everyday

My client wanted
Mousse and berries
To Marry his Man
Both named Sam

Over my counter he
Spoke proudly of a chosen Son
A test tube One
Carried in a Chicago mother
And growing as we speak.

All this talk
Stirred my head
The yeast was fermenting
As I counted the layers

I questioned my vision for
How my craft, my pastry, my art
My sumptuously rich
Lazarian 7 layered
Cake

Could be cut in front of witnesses of
An unorthodox wedding

No sugar, no jelly, no honey
Could join these two men

Using my cake, cream and berries as
A catalyst of love.