as the lid is slowly pulled off the jar,
murmurs became deafening; near and far.
some claims it to be salt, but i barely believed,
for what i got was sugar; white and sweet.

with its superfine bits brushing through my fingers,
even the slightest swatch, for years it lingered.
no doubt, it was sugar indeed.
so delicate, everyone wanted a grip.

and perhaps, if salt was somehow lost and trapped,
in the wary gentle touches of white,
it neither overcomes nor overwraps,
the very sweetness that reigned all this while.

in this series of vulnerable thoughts,
brought about by the emotions made felt,
it was realized that the ones cautious of salt,
just denied seeing the sugar for themselves.