You have become soft, I whisper

When urine stings my nose

When smoke smarts my eyes

When shouts grate my ears.

You have become soft, I cry

When I long for a smile

When I ask for some sweetness

When I look for a cushion or shade.

You are soft and pliant as cheese

You are soft and wispy as leaves

You are soft and easy as rain.

But then again, perhaps I am not soft.

Perhaps I am ripe.