A Dash of Salt

I lay with my love. He sends me promises of a motionless kiss.

There we would find a silence to the challenging matters of obstructions.

Which I craved in these dark days.

 It would be about noon when I find myself longing even with the brilliant light on green Moroccan tiles. I can’t stop forgetting a moment when it was organic.

Like the eggs. Hardboiled and a dash of salt.

It would be so much better if dairy didn’t make me sad.

Argo, I can’t develop a craving for cheese.

It would affect my palette in an unfortunate way.

Then it could be an easier way to find an exit strategy I would imagine.

I’ve been taking the wrong ones.

I only pray that this world can offer me up to you.

Because I can’t remember the kiss right now.

Nothing about this is right.

Like cheese.

Something I could do without.