Your face is a spoon
That stirs my cup
Until tea spills
Soaks the saucer
Circular motion
With life of its own.
No matter which way I look at you
I see myself staring back
Longing
Hurt
Desire
Need.
Whatever I heap on you
I know will be carried
To the right place and time
Sugar
Medicine
An egg.
No matter how fast I run
You will support the load
Come along for the ride.
Decadent silver
Reliable steel
Practical wood
I want to pop you on my tongue
And relish your coolness
Smoothness
Earthiness
Metallic Edge
I know all your flavours
Too good to keep in a drawer.
-
Spoons
@ 2007-01-05 – 14:35:25
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