A Poor Batch

by silvershoes   Mar 9, 2016

Heat emanates and without an emulsifier,
we begin to fall apart.

One moment, I'm the spoon,
cupping your wide shoulders in the
new, frosted nights.
Another moment, I'm the knife,
becoming scissors,
sprawled and dull in a bed we made for guests.

What I'm trying to say is:
maybe we don't belong in the same dough.
We tried, but the cost and time spent
became too much
for a poor man's pastry.


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Latest Comments

  • 1 year ago

    by Maher

    Awesome. Just awesome. I think I like this that much more because I make brownies to sell as a little side thing from work. Very good imagery and a great intertwining of metaphors with things that are easily understood that can be related to in a flash. Thank you for sharing your work :)

  • 1 year ago

    by Em

    The way you describe the love falling apart so brilliant but so sad and touching.


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