Miso Soup

Grey blob bobbing

Soggy glob roundly bouncing,

the small wake not disturbing

a warm spoon.

Escaping soup ghosts beyond the bowl seeking

a consensual relationship with a nose, mouth—

any port in a storm.

Glistening globs daub shiny sides on one another,

Sticking, sliding.

Soup rejoins soup and the globs glisten less.

Dulled and tired,

no longer attracting,

blob joins glob,

a semi-solid candle casting no light


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