We Were Riding Bicycles

We were riding bicycles with baskets full of confectionery
flowers and we kept pedaling til we reached the entrance
of the tallest building in Boston. It was noontime, it was cloudy.
You had gumboots on and I was wearing a bathing suit of blue-hued
cotton candy. Once inside the lobby we took the vanilla-scented
elevator as high as it would go, and then we ascended cocoa-powdered
stairs, up to the roof, where the ground was covered
in thin gold wrapping. Each ledge was lined with nutrition facts
which we tore up and bunched into tiny bits until we'd amassed a pile
of garbage that was more like a mountain of sugar. We dug into it
and our warm breathing moved the grains to soften and stick
together until honey was dripping while we were melting in the middle
of this street-salt city which is rarely ever sweet enough to kiss.

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