The magic released from your fingertips purr like spikey legs of a cricket, and although the pitch can be quite much, at least it fills the defeaning silence. And that's better than nothing.
It's everything compared to nothing

See, it's a different type of suffering.
As cardinal as the cardinals sing,
sound still sounds more radiant from your mouth; light as a cloud and tempting as the devil's cake, but it's much too **** loud for this headache.

Just as a hummingbird you urge each redundant peck deeper, and with it comes a blatant crooked creek. It's such a lovely repeat to wake up to, but the minute reality sets in I just want to shake you and retreat back to sleep so sound.
Retreat back to sound as sleep.

My cloudy head floats peeking at your ground,
and I can't make up my mind when your earth is bringing it down.