I pull myself away
When i am attracted to the surface
Of event interpretation.
The visible tells a simplified picture
My mind and heart want to believe.
Investigative analysis and questioning
Come from my science core
That deep inside
January drives me to the unheard truth.
Tent and steaming,
Golden like the sun,
Fries condense joy of life and child-like behaviours.
Fingers are sticky,
oily stains on my dress,
And a bunch of fries
Like wedding bouquet
in my hands.
Spaghetti at the end of the adventure
In the evening of a Friday
With a bitter taste.
Sneaky but friendly
The pasta wraps me and my doubts
While the future holds a secret.