Supper Alone

I’m playing with darkness
life on a spit over open fire
trying new recipes
paradoxes as ingredients

ingredients misunderstood
judged, even feared
if I serve you this dish
I’m afraid you’d think it’s poison…


so I eat by myself
I rejoice in the flavours
seven candles on the table
I miss you

as integration hits your tastebuds
as paradoxes merge
in your mouth before you swallow

nourished by darkness on golden plates
seven candles on the table
the eighth in your hand


I’m The Lady of Shadows and Light
of hidden, of accepted
of the day and of the night
a chef of integration

days I cook with all I have
times I’m true to all there is
my supper
is taken
in solitude…

What do you feel?

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