I wake with the sun In hopes of meeting you. thick with pasteurization, you have the probiotics I crave. Chilled from your Frigidaire home, all you need is a stir. lumpy and unsatisfying, homogenization is the goal. I mix tirelessly until nightfall, praying for your smooth texture At last, it is mixed. or so I thought. your betrayal, clumpy. It leaves me hurt, and hungry I must mix again.