Friday, 17 August 2012

Piece of Cake by Sophie Mayer

yes, that moment when
the page and all its
silver shakings come
together. oh, icing on

is white, is indentable
for decoration. stars,
stars, and flowers, oh
my sweet sky, how 

you sparkle. 

how much can it change
and still be? raw, sprouted,
free from. But still the crunch
of sweetness, still 

the – bite into it – elation.

if I read another 100 pages then 
I can — if I finish this paragraph
then tea – if you are also at the library
then shall we — if the review is done

I’ve earned it. If I’ve eaten the cake,
then sugar is what powers — and our
conversation is the — the precise
swirl of buttercream, that — in this essay I 

read the words scattered in poppyseeds.

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