Carbs, Carbs, Wonderful Carbs

How I love thee. Filling, satisfying, suiting my craving belly whenever it may squeal, "Empty!".

Oh, how I love thee, slathered in butter, even strawberry jam. Melted oils simmering in your cracks, wafting delicious odors through jealous air to my questing nostrils.

I love thy every morph: sliced, toasted, focaccia, pancetta, braided, twisted, rolls, sticks, buns, hot, cold, fresh, stale, crumbs. I'll even eat thy mangled form after being squished into a peculiar pea-pod shape by the mischievous fist of a young charge.

How I cherish your inner variety: french, wheat, oat, sesame, white, pumpernickel, rye, sourdough, corn... Your expressive and accomodating self-perception is my inspiration, breakfast, lunch, dinner, midnight snack. And the tiny hours in between.

Bread, I do love thee, and though you love not my thighs & posterior, we always reach the happy medium and come to understand one another once again. Bread, I wish that you shall never leave me cold and empty in this grueling world. I do love thee.
Yknot Yknot
22-25, F
1 Response Feb 10, 2008

OMG, you're talking my language, this life is meaningless, tasteless without bread. The smell, OMG, makes so high, GIVE ME BREAD OR GIVE DEATH. I will survive eternity on bread only.<br />
bread, soup and salad, that's heaven to me.<br />
bread and coke, it's not a joke,<br />
bread and tea how I love thee,<br />
bread and coffee mixed with toffee,<br />
bread and milk go down smoother than silk.<br />
I can go on and on and on, bread is life.<br />
<br />
bread and salad