Stephanie Arwen Lynch


Decent toast takes practice.
All things must be accounted.
Bread should be dense, chewy
Like Sunday morning talks
Over the newsprint crossword.

Heat should be distinct.
First a low, steady burn.
Like when you look at me,
Just before the alarm
Interrupts what might be.

I would request, love
You not lick the plate
Each time you look my way.
Wicked tongue teases,
While I let my tea cool.

Decent love takes practice.
All things must be accounted.
Talk should be meaningful.
Touch must be intentional.
I think the toast is burning.