baked goods
By catseyes
Like yeast, I rise above the humility of becoming an ingredient the mixture beaten a hundred strokes to remove all lumps of imperfection the baker, never satisfied with the combination more spice more sugar a dash of this a dash of that a dash of me a bitter taste turns over on his tongue when one ingredient fails to blend with the others the flavor of betrayal the aroma of deception permeates within his kitchen damaged taste buds can’t appreciate the flavor of cinnamon is still the flavor of cinnamon © Written January 11th, 2002 © on Jan 11 2002 08:11 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Like yeast, I rise..."