i brush by a sugar momma this morning whose wearing a rose-colored sweater. she has a hairbrush in her hand & i imagine her singing Motown hits into it like a real diva. i'm looking for chocolate sweets in the grocery to give her as a gift that symbolizes how she is candy for my eyes. candy for my eyes. she lives at the end of town. i hear from a friend that she's an artist. i'm intrigued. so i go to her front lawn with my mariachi compandres & i serenade her as she stands on her balcony stargazing. she lets down her lengthy tress of hair & i climb up it for to kiss her & give her chocolates in a dainty box wrapped in ribbon. heartbeats & sugar rushes & shooting stars & duets sang into hairbrushes.