Cotton CandyMore Like This
the sun had left a trail of kisses on the cornfield grass,
lips of radiance pressed against wheat,
when I laid on it as a child.
I remember staring up at the sky and shouting,
“momma, the clouds look like cotton candy!”
puffy and gleaming pinkish from the colors of sunset,
the perfect visage from the eyes of an artist.
and I imagined the sky melting into nectar
and the mouths of the hovering bumble bees
watering at the scent of syrupy candy
and suddenly I could reach those
cotton candy clouds
and feel their leaking sugar
in between my fingertips
sprinkling my nose and toes.
my momma sat beside me, caked in
marmalade-spotted cheeks and a honeyed smile
and told me:
“the angels are baking tonight, my sweet.”