At night your eyes come to me,
Deep and haunting green,
And I build your face from there
Across cheekbones so sharp
I could cut my ties against them
When I lay my head against this rock
Of a pillow, trying to get some rest.

But in the day I forget your face as
It blends with the face of a man I know
Who “enjoyed the cake” I made him
By watching everyone else eat it.
He said he doesn’t touch sugar when 
Really he doesn’t touch anything
Even a little bit sweet.