Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
My hands are the shape of this morning’s bagel: small and untethered, sprinkled with seeds, tasteful of hope that today will hopefully be a good day. I have made it - not for anyone but for my own mouth. I have sipped and tasted for years what my hands have prepared for me, cooked in the hope that I could - no, _will_ - make a day good for me.
0
Jul 20, 2024
Jul 20, 2024 at 11:03 AM UTC
Everything bagels and how they look this early
My hands are the shape of this morning’s bagel: small and untethered, sprinkled with seeds, tasteful of hope that today will hopefully be a good day. I have made it - not for anyone but for my own mouth. I have sipped and tasted for years what my hands have prepared for me, cooked in the hope that I could - no, _will_ - make a day good for me.
androowalsh
Written by
Jul 20, 2024
Jul 20, 2024 at 11:03 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem