Poorly built pedestals of happiness

I wish I could pry your mouth open with both my hands, around your slippery lips and sharp teeth, pulling till I made a little space. And then I’d drop it in, hold your mouth shut till you licked your nose and swallowed. I would watch your cheeks distort and roll into creases and lines as they pulled back stretching toward your ears. Your lips sliding glossy over your gums as the corners of your mouth reached towards heaven. Your round eyes would disappear into little slits of happy sunshine slices. The cervical vertebra slanted backwards with the spinal cords support sending synapses of sunshine straight to your epiphysis cerebri. I wish I could resonate in a tone that shook you with happiness. I wish I could push it on you or pry it into you. I wish I could wrap it up and give it to you and when your cold or lonely you could climb into it like a bright yellow cave. I wish I could shove it so far down your throat you’d never stop smiling but I can’t reach your mouth from way up here without falling. Maybe it’s worth climbing down to have a better look around your face.