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Nov 2022
Twin glasses of orange juice, froth quietly fizzling out
A plate of turkey bacon piled overzealously high


I would cook you French toast every day, if you'd let me.

Fresh croissants from a bakery down the street
Halved strawberries drizzled with honey


I'll sprinkle cinnamon in our coffee, just like my grandmother used to.

I don't know much of love, but I know this:
When the sun breaks through my kitchen window,
I hope you'll be sitting at the table.
Written by
monique ezeh  21/nyc
(21/nyc)   
3.4k
   Wyatt
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