Breakfast Date

Eggs over easy and coffee

Black,

Strong.

He teases through clouds of bacon grease and laughs at the fact the toast just burned.

We sit relaxing on top of orange juice hangovers and melted butter conversations.

Excited about fruit loop trips gazing through frosted flake windows.

Marsh mellow clouds envelope dreams of toaster strudel success.

He is mine

And I...

Am His.

IHOP has nothing on the service he gives and I love the hours he puts in.

Pancakes favor him, while good ole' fashioned grits tickle my senses and I feel warm inside.

We walk outside.

To enjoy the air God gave us so graciously, and I smile

how wonderful it is

to share this moment.

A moment heated by oven rays of cinnamon sticks and ice cold milk.

I never wanted to feel so sticky with syrup temptations, easing through the cracks of waffle squares.

Yet,

I like the though of falling.

Seeping into peanut butter and jelly secrets, and feeling beautiful.

Sings songs of fruit salads and cream cheese bagels.

Dance,

Dance dances that fill you up like biscuits and gravy.

Love,

Love hard and never look back towards soggy cocoa puffs and stale bread.

Laugh,

Smile,

and just..........Eat breakfast!