happy birthday.

almost imperceptibly, it flickered out.
melted wax and pulpy frosting,
melded into unregconizable clumps,
dotted the surface of the redundantly fancy confection.

asleep, little cone cap knocked askew.
painstakingly arranged hair wrecked by hours gone by.
a palette of gloss and blush, defaced by tears.
comically tagic scene, does such makes.

a card, laced trimmed production of three days,
whsipers of sentiments and unwavering promises,
speaks of her faithful devotion
clutched in her hand,
an almost vice-like grip.

the kitchen clock strikes three
he arrived,
amid drunken laughters and helpless giggles.
key clumsily shoved into lock, twisting.
a solitary ray fell across the room
she woke up and blinked,
focusing, and taking in,
what stood on her beloved's doorstep.

he wasn't alone.