Buckwheat disc with a crispy edge,
stave off mourning, morning flirt.
Little pancake like a ledge
(stave off mourning, morning flirt)
from which to peer out at the world,
two-dimensional globe unfurled.
Fat raspberries and thick yogurt,
what makes you so alive to eat?
Nutmeg, baking soda, salt.
What makes me so alive I eat
a buckwheat disc with a crispy edge?
Now I walk out on a ledge
(nutmeg, baking soda, salt)
to greet the last days of chez nous.
I love you. I’m sorry. What will we do?