Waking up from your sleep.

You have learnt to make no fuss.
You have learnt not to wake us.

Crumpet flesh and itchy tags
The heater filling up the room like sunrise
The sun cries, it hears
The gravity building up in your jaw.

And a kitty scan in the morning
Meow meow meow.

You told me it wont hurt
Your hair spilling around your neck
And down the sides of the machine:
Don’t move, don’t move.

Leftovers
Built up, like a…like a…

Chew, ma.
Tuts and tsks and nods and clicks
She is doing it right!
Jaw moves up and down in proper omnivorical fashion

Although:
No more dope, hard toffee or smokes
No intense laughter, no blow jobs

Say yes to subtlety, ambiguity
Our Mona Lisa smiles.

And soup.