Icy Dr. Pepper sizzles on my tongue. Soft serve ice cream spills into my palm, sugar staining a path along my thigh, rainbow sprinkles scattering on the sidewalk. The cyclone screaming in the sky. I’m coming up on Coney Island dreams as the daylight starts to drown. The carnival cycle consumes you, and you’re free (falling). Soaring through the sunset highline, above marquee lights and cotton candy-cloud balloons. Caramel popcorn clinging to your teeth, in heaven, high above neon illumination as the Wonder Wheel whirls down.
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