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April 29, 2008
Red, blue, and yellow jimmies anchored by and yet smothering the underlying icing: thick, fluffy buttercream white, whipped in circles and contained entirely within the boundaries of each cupcake's golden bosom, themselves spilling over the edges of the foil. The scent of each, sugary-sweet, like lust, inviting a closer look, touch, taste. A nip from a corner, ilicit and forbidden, when no one is looking; this one gets tucked in back where no one can see: an affair. I whisper fervent promises; I'll send for you later.

Happy Birthday, Vicki! the card reads. A subscript: Sorry I Violated Your Cakes.