My little gobstoppers,  

Larger than life, lodged in caustic jaws— 

never be silenced,  

but silence them all. 


For there’s no failure veiled in 

the sweetness of a metaphor,  

for the hard-fought  

fissures that feature you: 


The cracks on the pale surface of youth  

that reveal that rainbow,  

that soulful spectrum in you— 

of you.  


For all your toffee stuck tongues 

and candied cold stone,  

for all your teeth cracked and cut,  

and born again, just 

getting to the soft centre of it all. 


Life is all the sweeter 

for the core of you. 


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