What I want and what I need
what I want to want
and what I think I want
are different
and changed again.
Praise sandwiched in snide greens I can deal with.
But praise unbound leaps and gags the wary mind.
So feed me:
News in small digested parcels.
Awe in sane confects I can see and understand.
Joy in self-contained units, allotments of peace.
Lust in sanitised tray with neat compartments.
Change in easy gulps, fear in whispered inklings.
Feed me when the world turns colder.
Don’t open what I cannot bear.
Close the door, the draughts, the weather…
I fear ‘too much’, I crave no more.