You

I made you lunch.

You said we should break up.

I hadn't realized how much

you hate tofu.

I know you better now.

A thousand lunches, dinners, breakfasts later.

Breakfasts are my favorite.

Soft morning light.

Just you, me

our kitchen table.

Reviews

[Thomas Emile Vaughen]

This is a cracking poem. Seldom do I stumble across a writer that can invoke such intimacy, warmth, with such an economy of words.

Cheers for sharing!

C.

[Chris]

So three years-ish worth of sharing... and hope for more. Some things take time to find our way.