Only the Buttered Sun Knows

You said: "You should have woke me up." I said: "You didn't sleep with me last night." how absurd this pillow talk morning hands on coffee cups as if its warmth were enough, aye, there be the rub! as if a firebird could take wing, take this distance between us and burn through its aftermath, our eyes huge with weights, these things that weigh us down and these things of weight that keep us honest like deer caught in headlights, our hearts like daisies that will never tell, pushing ground to sky sky to ground, burrowing our way somewhere, not here.