• Carly Feinman

Day 15- 10.1.20

Breakfast on My Mind

The sun is an egg yolk,

cracked, runny, and dripping

from its neon shelf

in the sky.

From its clean, bird-like perch

above the haze, the sun

is busting out, boundless.

The light is so bright, in fact,

something about it feels raw,

as if it were rushed to the table,

served just a smidge


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