Wednesday, August 13, 2014

10-12 at 375F

I roll the dough
quickly, without taking care
to avoid rips--those I press
back together. The oven
preheats in the background;
I knew the temperature by heart.
Three of the four make it into
the pan. This is why I refuse
to buy cans of 8, because
I find them so delicious and
they never make it more than
an hour, unless I've saved you
one and you're too caught in
a game to save it from me, or
me from it--I'm not really sure
which that it goes--but if I said
it was yours, I'll leave it, and
it will last out the twitching
of the clock.

My love of crescent rolls
does not exceed my joy
at your smile,
but I wouldn't suggest you
decide to leave yours until
tomorrow.


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