Separating an egg is a tricky
business: cracking the shell
in just the right spot,

gently slipping the unfertilised
contents between two halves
above separate, spotless bowls.

Viscous albumen runs
reluctant from ripe vitellus,
dangling above cavernous Pyrex

while yellow orb sits bulging
in hard brown casing
waiting for the tip.

I will leave you now
in your quiet kitchen
to form your stiff, white peaks

while I turn my bowl upside down
and let the glorious saffron yolk
slide down my beaming face.


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Filed under Free Verse, Poetry

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