Stretch me thin, love, turn each letter of my name
into dough and pull. Tug and kneed. Cut me into quarters
and roll me senseless in your warm palms.
Give me time to rise; to imagine this is the part where
you stay rather than leave.
Abandon me to hot air and stuffy corners.
Name it: a mistake. Watch me bloom in pieces
and find me again. Poke and prod, hear me deflate
at your touch. Lay me down to rest before turning
on the gas, the sweet tick of a spark.
Come back to me, days later – blackened char.
Hear me crumble and flake. Whisper into my ashes
that you will stitch me back together –
gluten strands of forgiveness. Ask to start again.
Flour the surface and cut your second chance.
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2021
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