kyndallrae

creating me [using words]

My Heart Is a CrockPot

My heart is a Crockpot.
Mustn’t microwave
my truth.
Let it simmer,

simmer slow.
Aroma fills my rooms.
I wander casually close,
Taste to test cohesion.

When sufficiently hot,
with singed tongue
I’ll ladle down low
and serve up words

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