Photo Source: Unsplash Javelin   O sugar, sugar, you are poised to burn Like a javelin through this heart too open, Too trusting still, to believe we must turn   Into foes at the last - Mingled like the mountains with every joy Like the sea with every sorrow, you creep Into the spines of my dreams. You destroy And sustain me, sweet ruin waiting to seep   Into my veins. The Miring Sort   All my plans are always perfect, like carts heaped with chaunsas in mid-July, like poulets rôtis turning in...