You’re beauty brings me spoonfuls of sugar
while I sit in suns rays on abstract chair.
this thought bursts into my soul,
I never couldn’t care.
Your excellence steeps me milk of tears
on a Saturday in aisle two
of pyjamas and silk nightgowns,
the striped ones of shining blue.
I just want to bury my face
my cheekbones of red and wet,
into fabric of oasis
where your sweet is soundly kept.
But here I am, on abstract chair,
with steaming cup of tea
now ready to be had,
like I wish for you and me.