drizzled honey

Wake up in the morning. Softly sift through my hair. Wipe our tears off our faces— It'll be okay

Clean up all our gashes Rinse them thoroughly and I'll have you dress mine.

We'll water the houseplants And treat them with care. You'll wash my back— Pick out all of the glass From the window that I fell from, Into your arms.

You fell over, I'll Clean your blood from the table And the carpet and the counter and I will mend your bones and I will suture your wounds, darling.

Drizzled honey On the wound, sweetening the sorrow