It is almost never 7 o’clock in the morning

in Melbourne city, after the trains run

out of the dark, lit only by passengers

I’m shopping for kinds of winter

letting the marshmallow in my [brand]

[brand-specific size] hot chocolate

heat up soften and geal, such that

I can pressure-differential-with-mouth the thing

through the tiny rounded rectangle hole

in the to-go cup, like the sun through the dawn
I am guilty

             of incredible topological violence

to the dusted shapes

                         of sweetness, and the forms

I am going to pressure-differential-with-mouth

                                    your face

though the tiny rounded rectangle hole

                                                in my heart

good morning can I please get two of those

                                                            and make mine a ventricle