Whipped cream.
I wish I was filled with whipped cream.
Instead of stuffing.
Everybody loves whipped cream.
Even the vegan kind of pretty great.
If I were filled with whipped cream, my living companion would hug me, and it would ooze out a little from the seams in my neck and the line down the middle of my stomach.
But there’d be a little hole on the top of my head,
like the one for a needle in a basketball,
and you’d push the nozzle right in there, and then, Schzzzchhhhhh, I’d be filled up again.