Consolation in the Kitchen
The knife rests,
its silver edge carrying
a small sun across the crust.
You wanted the impossible—
to butter your toast and eat it too,
to keep the sheen intact
while tasting its warmth.
Isn’t that the old wish,
to hold the thing and spend it,
to keep the flame unbroken
while leaning into its light?
So we practice the art of vanishing:
a bite, a swallow,
the plate left clean
yet somehow still radiant.
And tomorrow,
when the loaf is smaller,
we’ll laugh at the trick again—
to butter your toast and eat it too,
and call it survival.
.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 3rd, 2025 05:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments1
Cryptic this speaks to the very nature of life that requires consuming and yet wanting to maintain. Time itself is consumed, yet we wish it back in our nostalgia and memories. When I eat toast the plate is never left clean there are always a few crumbs left behind and it will need to be washed. A lovely poem my friend
Thanks, Soren 🙏🏻🕊️it’s a very relatable metaphor ✍️
Most welcome my friend
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