I am miso soup
sometimes deceivingly hot
often salty
always tagging along.
And you,
you are the lacquered bowl
majestic black and gold
open red heart
caressing my all
securing me tight
holding me warm
each night and each morn.
miso soup
Sister visit, day 7.
On day seven we ate our way through Japan: my favourite pancakes, this time apple flavour, Japanese soba, sushi-train restaurant and last but not least, MOS BURGER; the only fast food chain where your burger actually looks like the picture (and tastes as good as you hope).
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you make miso happy
Can I be
the bowl of miso
routinely held
between your palms
and gently pressed
against your lips
each and every dawn?
iaccidentlyatethewholething 