eating fire
divine
made of secrets
known twice
during meetings
met thrice
at tables hidden
plates steaming
filling souls with light
a glance
a nod
a smile
words praising
this light in darkness
lifted softly
to scents awaited
loveliness
filling one’s plate
heartfelt thanks
sung with crimson
held in goblets
with plates swept clean
and souls filled to the brim
with true and real delight –
Merci.
© 2015 threegoodwords
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