A Glorious Reunion
Our faces press together like two halves of the same bagel
rejoined at long last
Nose to cheek to chin to brow
Every bump finding a place to nestle every contour
meeting its mirrored mate
Mouth to mouth to lips
forming that all-important hole
So soft so seamless so perfectly aligned that if Jesus Christ Himself
had been born the Son of a baker instead of a carpenter He still
could not have shaped it better
It is the sweet smell of dough it is the tart taste of onion
It is the red glow of burning coils
and fireworks
I believe our two halves must have been covered in cream cheese ‘cause I couldn’t pry myself away from you if I tried
I believe our two halves must have been covered in cream cheese ‘cause I couldn’t pry myself away from you if I tried
