Kitchen-Table Prophecy

She was fed a story as a child
Standing in her grandmothers’ kitchen
Between two old, knife-scarred, wooden tables
Munching on fresh-from-the-oven buttered bread
“This one will fall in love hard and all at once”

She swallowed it whole
Between bites of bread
And let it take root
In her self-mythology
One day, she would fall in love
Hard and all at once.

When she fell
With a passion that seared
Leaving her heart skipping beats
And her breath catching
It seemed to confirm the kitchen-table prophecy

And when she fell out
And pulled the pieces of herself back together
She cursed the story
For surely it meant she
Would not fall again.

“All at once”
Does not mean “once”.

As she learned on another day
When time had mended the shattered pieces
And a love walked in
And she fell hard and fast
All over again.

And one day maybe
All at once
All over again.

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This entry was posted in love, Poem, romance and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Kitchen-Table Prophecy

  1. Pai says:

    i did send it to Ellen……

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