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.