Cupcakes are meant
to be savored.
Devoured.
Loved and
deflowered.
They're not meant
to be chewed,
turned-on-your-tongue,
used,
just for the flavor;
I say,
they are meant
to be savored.
They should find their way
into your guts.
And,
with any luck,
you fell in love,
when you swallowed
those crumbs.
It's a pity
a confection
should wind up
in a garbage can,
on account of
your gluttonous guilt.
But I know how you love
your deprived, righteous will.
I'm hurt you wouldn't eat me
for fear someone sees.
Or someone finds out
you indulged
in me.
You'd rather I wind up
-anonymous-
with the rest of
your lunchtime trash.
I'm not angry,
you can't be,
in the bottom
of a barrel.
When you're made up
for ingestion
You're disposed of
or digested.
I suppose
given the two,
I'm happy to have avoided
the intestines.
Violet Winters
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-a-cupcake-s-shoes/
