a blt
Mar 7, 2026 · 1 min read
Crisp, gold-toasted bread,
Bacon’s salt and heavy crunch,
A perfect balance.
But that gorgeous, bright tomato,
It is what steals my soul away.
Juice runs down my chin,
Mayonnaise on every thumb,
Bread crumbs on the plate.
A glorious, salt-slicked wreck,
Gone before the first napkin.
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Comments (2)
Paper Cut PagesMar 8, 2026
Absolutely love this! You had me at food and poetry! And the mayo line … yes, this is real!
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