Baking

Written in

by

The original intrepid researcher
has nothing on her –
knowledge sucked out
of the no-place/all-place/air,
it might be called clout
but she’s only two,
only learning power/preference/hello how are you,
only discovering breadcrumbs
I wasn’t hungry enough to detect
that she hands me to taste.
Soon, she will bake.

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poetry, essays, fiction

graelfae writes

I share a poem a day and it terrifies me.