Soft & sweet is the same as poison.
Mix it with my morning coffee
to make it my stiffest drink.
Starriest nights converge to prove
we’re still just two of the heavenly bodies.
You are the impossible that haunts,
drags its (‘perfect’) body, twisting
into nothing substantial.
My whole (heavenly) body’s latest ache.
Prayers beg, stricken in sleep’s wake,
that I might turn in someone else’s better bed,
happy, laughing, sighing, saying,
"Don’t you never know me like him."