with you
it's slow like the syrup I
drowned the waffles
my mom used to make on
Sunday mornings in
the way you tilted me sideways
and let my sighs build up on the
plate’s edge only to drop me
at the last second
and let the puddle settle
before tipping me once again
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
with you
it's slow like the syrup I
drowned the waffles
my mom used to make on
Sunday mornings in
the way you tilted me sideways
and let my sighs build up on the
plate’s edge only to drop me
at the last second
and let the puddle settle
before tipping me once again
Request permission to use this poem