Chocolate

I thought all the town would see my chocolate bar wrappers stuck to my bedroom windows.

Proud adverts of innocence in a suburban safe house.

With no news of these posters (small and smudged at their edges), catching eyes, Mum walks me to Kay’s.

To her party round the corner.

I find chocolate fingers there. Sweet soldiers of young lives - dominating the sugar craze. Accessories, my rapture.