Myriads upon myriads of layers.
Countless, untold biscuits of wonder,
Eternally united in a bond of loves embrace. Eternally united in an embrace of love. Something, something more than love. Something, a thing if only deeper. Is it truly possible that this bond could unite such a myriad of layers? Myriads upon myriads of layers. At the edges, they quiver. I have never seen such a substance. Such a substance as to unite these layers. As though one. The exquisite delight of a single mouthful of its goodness, causes a divine madness with a minute fraction of a second. The time it takes, they say, for the sugar, the dopamine to spike in the cerebellum. How delightful? Ah! I can say nothing... No thing. Except... How delightful? Ah! The honey, the fruit of that love, drips as though from the comb. It's essence permeated each and every layer. Then, then... There are the pistachios! Round as plump and full grapes.. ground as golden powder, finely powdered and shaped so as to spread the value of a true fortune, laid out like a sheet across a cutting board. Now, finely ground and united into this embrace of love. The flavor shall hit like a punch, tempting the eater, tempting them to not cease eating. Let us gather around the greatest social bond, the greatest dessert ever to have been crafted. Baklava! This is my ode to baklava...
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