a waft of sugar spreads across the room
catching and hanging on the back of my throat
just where I can’t swallow it away
I can feel my sugar rising
in a symphony of chocolate buttercream
intermingled with funfetti
because six years old is all about ponies
and rainbows of confetti bursting from the cake
and as I take a piece
just a small piece from the middle
where the icing won’t rise up and attack my meter
with that evil “HI”
I sniff it yet again
thinking it is almost enough to stop now
right now
before I taste
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