wheat breath fogs my glasses
made you bread
and you punish.
your hand in mine and
i made you bread
and you call it dry while i
am slowly drying.
while i lie, you lie, we lay
down in breadsoft linens
crusty oats flaking out of our teeth
which chew and snap and grind.
fact: shouting and clapping both
ruin bread.
working title
This blog, formerly fiction and poetry only, just took on a new role: full-time personal blog. Expect to see a mixture of reflective prose as well as the standard, poetic fare. 
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
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