WARNING: This poem contains implied femslash. You no likey, no read-y, baby.

The Bakery

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when i'm hungry

and i'm ready

for a stroll to the bakery,

i take pride in my knowing

just how sweet the cakes'll be;

how quick the hot, soft center

will assault my wet, warm tongue

it's the icing that i wait for though,

so thick, such cream

unlike that

cream i had just yesterday

on a cold, cold monday night

it's been years now

since i found

that

we've been lied to, me and you

it's been years now

since i found out

that today, a girl

can have her cake

and merrily eat it too.