Toast That Screamed

A holler of loss

Photo by Teo Do Rio on Unsplash

Most in a cup to rinse what is found sends a piece of cake to taste. A grin of soup poured from the night shines a style of salt that is moist.

Can it know for what has been seen the noise of cream with a glass-structured frame? I pause, to delete, when beknownest to me is hidden upon the feet beneath.

Toast that screamed a holler of loss inside the grasp that shaped the sweet. I caved to date unless the charge was more than a streak that sang me to sleep.

A disguise I admit however the state you misspoke again leaving me crushed. I deflate and leave the kitchen of delight no matter the treat offered at best.

Will it be a thing to behold and swallow when all along the table turns? Is a draft again a way back in to the oven that cooks the meat and pie?

I wonder aloud in thick and thin if might and peace go hand in hand. A shake of powder with smells so bright concocts a flavor I’ll never resist. A scene of relief or a final goodbye.

The dance goes on behind the curtain with snacks on the side to float the suspense. I spot a trace of missing crumb on the floor outside the sliding doors.

Do not believe I can abide with sugar and spice that isn’t nice. Honey perhaps if stirred just right I’d consider to give a second chance.

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Thank you for reading.