Fire. Flood. cake.
I imagine you blowing out your candles at peace with the world.
The smoke curling up into the air,
Like tiny spider webs finding their resting point.
The vision of frosting left upon a knife, which severed the coat into pieces.
Moving on to fill other mouths,
That can carry a tune without void or objection.
I imagine the water splashing against your feet.
The sun against your skin,
As the wet sand stick to your heels.
The vision of you washing the plate,
That held the dessert which you ate.
Your reflection peering back at you, as you give it a go over.
Sad that the crumbs are gone.