Sliced – Bread
Bread – Butter
Butter – Finger
Finger – Print
Print – Outs
The thinner I sliced you, the more I learned. It is like bread, full of holes and air that makes it what it is. So when you told me that love is bread and butter, I couldn’t help but take the analogy one step further. I buttered you up and took a bite, you taste nothing like I figured but my fingers drank you in. Finger prints still mark your skin where I gripped you as I carved. The sounds you make, the heady scent, the warmth, all imprinted against my tongue as you eked out your last breath.
Though it was little, a death is still a death.
Just never say love is like a box of chocolates – I am on a diet.