I blame you.
I don’t quite get it,
but it feels as if I have been
hit by a moving truck.

I have a feeling that it was driven
by an ice cream man.
I was a little kid who stood in front
waiting for it to stop. It never did.

The impact was quite hard.
I felt it coursing through my body.
Popsicles were everywhere.
In the air, I could taste them.

I didn’t mean for it to happen.
I tried to control myself, but
the dreamsicle was calling my name.
Taunting me with a sing-songy voice.

Still to this day, the incident
of the ice cream truck
has embedded itself in my memory.
I could never regret it, though.

And I blame you.