What I saw behind the glass was a flawless delicacy, perfection
was illusion crafted with the sweet artistry of the muses

And now as my blood starts to mix with hers
I taste her little secrets on my tongue
like store-bought cupcakes.


Sweet as can be.

I learn to keep them
from my friends to pretend her blood
is not seeping into the spaces between my veins

But I will give those sugary sweet secrets to her dear ones

through my laugh, my smile, in careful silences,
it is the easiest game, a simple charade,
they are just lies about me.

Sweet as can be.


I cover them in sprinkles,
I ice over the bumps which are so
distasteful to your  pursed-lip delicate palate

Yes, she has crafted me with all her delicacy, flawlessly
I am now perfection when she looks at me through the glass.