If we are to eat together
Let it be by candlelight
Dancing in your eyes
And let us sit om mats on the floor
Whose textured story our feet can read
And if we are to eat,
Let it be served in black lacquer bowls
That only hint at the heat within,
And whisper of the motion and weight
Of the meal within.
Let the soup be unrevealed 
Once the lid comes off,
Unlit like a koi pond before dawn
Let a moment of mystery lay
As we peer into the bowl
And smell the hints of what
Is just about to be



One thought on “Supper

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