When the lollies are passed around
they’re never the ones I like.
They’re always sucrose-hit fake-colour
convenience store cheapies.
I like
deep chocolate
dense fudge
soft glucose
slow savour.
Not available
on just any corner. You
unwrap one
let me scent it
I reach out
but you snatch it back and hide it.
When I protest you say
Don’t be so sensitive.
See? It’s not even real.
The walls echo the laughs
of the schoolyard ghosts
trapped in the concrete
science blocks
of my head
and yours