This is the midnight revelation
that sends covers flying
cat skittering me stumbling through darkness
blinking in the humming light of a rudely awakened kitchen
to frantically fan my thumb against grease-stained pages
as if it mattered that i see what i allready know
as if one can do any more than hold what is unbroken
cold and smooth against a flushed cheek
let the knife sink into loaf-shaped paste cooling on the counter
sweet and comforting despite its failings
how the body always knows
when something critical is missing.
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