Brown bread

Voorbakbroodjes als metafoor voor liefde, liefs Krage
You baked the bread so brown
that I want nothing else
for the morn’ and for my mouth.
You heated up my oven
with flour like flowers.
No need to ask my mother
or to cross the street
´Hello, may I order?’
to find the start of my day
‘Cause your men’s hands
have kneaded in a way,
while the dough was soft,
for the perfect form.
Since you’ve put on warmth,
the outside got so strong.
And behind the crispy thickness,
where your mass has been kept,
is where it’s the softest.
I bet you bakers now what love is.


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