he is not
quiet inside,
or beside
himself in awe.

he's just been
a middle-ground
or a stopping point
on my way out
of my mind.

but he keeps
appearing
while i'm steering down
searing black-heart tar
at a speed too fast.
and yet he remains an ember
only ever having grown into
wet timber -
a spark, but no hint
of a flame.

and maybe he does
smell just like smoke-
but it's still not
the same as
you.

and that's why i just
miss you
instead of letting him
call me "honey".