Words II.

September 28, 2012 § 31 Comments

She stirred his words
with both her hands,
mixed them in a bright
in-your-face shade of pink,
stirred some more,
picked up the bowl
containing the final mixture
and poured it over herself.

She cooked his words
in a deep base pan,
o’er the hot burner
that was her heart,
added all the spices
to make it eat-able,
spread the mixture on
toast like marmalade,
and ate it up.

She wrestled with his words
in her head,
squeezed them
broke them into pieces,
pinned them to the floor
of her own imagination,
and in the end
always let em win.

Happy birthday NS. ๐Ÿ™‚ I know youย don’tย understand poetry. But i will keep my promise. Someday, i will make you read between the lines!




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