The eggs, raw and liquidy in the silver bowl
Stirred into a color between
orange yolk and clear fluid.
Swirled with lines of seasoned salt,
decorating not only the eggs
but my tongue too.
The salt is a gift from you.
You told me that secret
on a morning in October
when you cared that I
had the best eggs in the world.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment