bread

i fall in love
easily with warm
bread, fresh and doughy
on the table before
the meal arrives,
i like the way a pad
of yellow butter
melts like a kiss on
the soft white face
of a slice. i want
to hold it, feel the
warmth of it, the hard
crust on my lips as
i take a bite and pull
and gently tear it's
life into me. bring me
more, then take my
hand, and i'll start
with you.