He sips at a coffee
He won't waste.
Is the milk rotten?
Doesn't matter. He's
Had that before.
Nice now, to have food
In the kitchen.

He chuckles in a developed
Version of how he used to.
Pitch rising at the end.
He's happier now
That hungry haze
Has lifted.
That dark *** fiend
Who used to tease me-
He's gone.
Or maybe stifled
By the angel.

But God,
His hugs still crush me.
Those hugs are the same.
The eyes are the same.
The story is the same.