Was the anaesthetic, the dentist's laughing gas,
The stuff that made you, a lithe, smooth weight of huge and sinister muscle,
Giggle and swoon. On the bed, the sheets of the operating table,
You stared at the ceiling like a
Dumb baboon, my drugged baby, as though your head was full of stars.
I saw then that my kiss would leave you with deep brain surgery scars.