How Do You Like Your Eggs In The Morning?Sunnyside up.The pan was still warm when I dropped it into the sink. We had eggs. You had them sunnyside up, but I couldn't bear runny egg whites and so I had scrambled. Just in case. You found your right shoe and left. I sat at the kitchen table drumming my fingers against the buttercup plastic cloth and thought about Life with a capital L. What was it all about?I started to think of breakfast as a metaphor for us. You had it all together. Sunnyside up. I was scrambled. A convoluted tick of a person. I started to consider my life as being thoroughly forked. I watched the birds outside the kitchen window for a while and did not relate them to what I had just eaten. After a long slither of time had passed I got up and washed the pan until the eggs were gone. You never came back. I learnt not to mind.Sunnyside up.
At Least Your Body Doesn't LieClandestine kisses, of peaches and pearlswith half written romance by half witted girls.Your tongue tells a tale as strong as the liquoreach passing heartbeat taints my heart bitter.Your inaccurate adaption of saccharine truth,whispered affections with the afflictions of youth.You lie with your eyes and deceive with your hips;I die in your arms and taste death on your lips.Liar boy, lover boy, whom I love the most,lift up your glass for a seraphim toast.You lie when you speak but can't lie what you feel,I know what you moan to my teeth is all real.