Edible
There are days
When a single touch from you
Makes me want to eat a trianglular
Strawberry jam sandwich so that it kisses
Either side of my mouth.
There are days
When a single look from you
Sticks in my mind like toffee to my teeth;
A bittersweet irritation until my nail
Pries it free.
There are days
When I lumber through curdled custard streets,
Weighed down by pound cakes in my pockets,
Breathing fetid pea soup air,
Fragile as spun sugar.
Yet your love for me remains,
Comforting as tea and Marie biscuits.
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