So delicious are the bread crumbs of a smile
coating so well the cutlet of kindness, crumbs
dipping every whim in whisking eggs, every
fluff enough to beat a heart, and then
it doesn’t matter if it’s sweet or sour,
breaded, bare, or a future recipe:
kindness in an egg wash
that sticks noble things together
to fry in the pan of the hot life
crispy and crunchy.
Love is so tasty that it requires no bread;
it rises from a fermentation of understanding, but
isn’t it wonderful when flour is plentiful and
everything tastes great over conversation
I could bring a spice that’s
saved for special occasions.
Some fruits of many colors.
Such a meal is more golden than sunrise, because
it’s not exactly orange but rainbowsy-cozy
— Douglas Gilbert