Your Eggrolls Are Dry
Your eggrolls aren't dry.
Your eggrolls aren't wet.
You say they're just right.
like it's some sort of threat.
You hand me an eggroll
along with a plum sauce.
I can tell you're still mad
as your eyes start to uncross.
This time there's no bag.
could it be a small hint.
Is it time to say sorry
for that eye with a glint.
It's a fresh tasty eggroll.
Not too dry; nor to wet.
It's your present to me
with my thanks and my debt.
I can never repay you
for the food you confect.
but more than your eggrolls
it is you that's perfect.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2014
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