bowls and tempests
by Lily Kinsey
am still in wonder am a
frayed glorious sentence in this chapter
a bowl
of pumpkin pie
savoured like soup
textured with cream
too much but
heaven anyway
a recipe from your hands
the map subconscious
improvised & created
to infuse into autumn
what you infuse in me
the tender shell
layered with honest
a thick heartful of batter
am still out of
breath
days after eating
giving the in me
what has touched
your hands
your tongue
like your whispers
in my ears
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