One’s Favourite

A spatula slaps the pancakes
to the other side of the pan,
The oil plays a rhythm
only hungry girls can dance to,
The bubbling of soya milk
exploding out of its kingdom
whispers nutrition.

The slipperiness of syrup,
How scrambled eggs hug each other
in a scattered uniformity,
The eagerness of the plate,
The wetness of my tongue,

All I can say is
Any food can be king
But this is the only one I’m subject to.

LARDO