on the cake. I’m the icing;
I’m the frosting. I’m the first
they see when they look. I make
their mouths water. I come in an array

of colors and designs. I’m the zigzags
and swirls, waves and peaks, from plain
to elite. Their tongues hand down to
their feet. Some use their fingers

to poke into me, to have a taste
as to what will be when they cut into
this. Pure bliss. Some children just want
the creamy, sweet goodness on top.