Poetess

 
Dense phrases populate your writing
(I'll teaze them out one day)
and multi-layered metaphors
infuse the heady mix
in this kitchen of ideas

But there is no recipe
no guidance and no clue
to what it is you're baking
and I am f(l)oundering

I look for seams between your well formed words
and find that they are fused
grown as some nut I'll never crack -
(a seed pod of mystery)
it will not spill its seed

Is it tiny grains of truth I'm looking for
or do I take the whole
a dish artfully formed
to savour in its entirety?

Will you braise or will you fry
my half baked cheesy thoughts
and can I poach your thinking
or am I on my own again?