Myself and I walk side by side, our personalities mixed.
I tell her that she is too sweet; she tells me that I am a mess.
Together we are one, with our flavors betwixt.
She is like fruit - a burst of fun - where I am like chocolate (told I'm the best.)
When mixed, we are nutty - crazy and wild;
We'd yell at each other in public, you see.
Others would say that I seem like a child,
But who can define myself other than me?
We are flavorful, powerful, bright, and reserved.
We are perfect, irregular, and contrasting too.
She and I know we give what is deserved:
Part sweet but all colorful - connected like glue.
Our name is unusual - not often heard;
Our quirks seem to suit her, accepted with smiles;
I, on the other hand, think we're absurd.
Yet it appears to work out - we each have our own styles.
Lastly, though strange, we still get along;
If we weren't one and the same, there'd be matrimony.
Us living together should be so wrong,
But life has formed us into lovely spumoni.