The street is frosted like a cake.
I cross a vast plane of vanilla,
Leaving the first impressions upon a freshly made bed
A Candy Land dream.
When I was six, my world revolved around cupcakes.
It still does;
Some things never change:
My love of sugar,
My love of daydreams,
My irrepressible desire to breathe against the pane
And trace my name across a Norman Rockwell winter.