It’s all in the wrists
all in the waking
the morning break, of eggshells
on a frying pan lip
golden yolk perfectly round
at the centre of everything.
We are not caught
by the tug of bedsheets
no fishing shards
from burnt out hours.

And I wondered
if the sight of me wavering
excited you.
Like a candle flame dancing,
your palm held
just inside the heat.
Contemplating the risk
of snuffing me out altogether.
Extinguishing that light
with one blow
one fist closing tight.
Did I excite?
Not the exact word for tonight’s Quadrille prompt, but a form of it is there, and according to the rules that’s alright.
Image by Jonny Lindner from Pixabay
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