Uncategorized

Rusk

Tied up in pretty cellophane
shining sesame crowns
a treat you look
like Christmas food
or something from Austria.

But you and I know
That inside you are sucked dry
Inviting, coquettish, but hard as stone
No soft mouth pillows
Only hard edges.

You clang on the edge of the bowl
Refusing to sink into my soup

Then slowly
Lapping at your edges
Massaging and releasing the crusted grains
She seduces you to softness.

You dissolve, sinking, falling apart.
Only sesame tears mark your passing
into the murky depths
of pea and mint.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s