In another dimension of vanilla and fusion,
a spectral hand sifts sugar through time’s crusty veil,
weaving whispers into the very dough of existence.
Measured in quarks and quivering plumes,
this pudding bubbles with the absence of one
Who once kneaded the silence into ambiguous abundance.
With quantum precision, we calculate flavors lost
In the flickering light of a forgotten oven,
where every crumb is a universe unbaked.
Yet still, notes whisper below the crust—
Whispering melodies of hands unheld, invisible,
In a kitchen woven from the fabric of subatomic dreams.