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  (c) Jannike Kayser      

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Onion Peeling

He is wild her snoopy man.
He bullies and he flatters, scans
her under running water, smiles and
sobs reluctantly. He is her biggest
fan. Outer skin he finds is delicate
and thin.
Unwraps fleshy layers with his fingers, wants to know her inner soul.
Is it tender, untouched and exposed?
Then looking for a substance in her
brain. Emotions, inner ghost and
nucleus, the Amygdale?
He peels and peels, ends up in dissapointment and in vain.
A black and empty hole, was that it?
He lingers.
Well that was it and done is done.
Here you are! He says and serves his
chic, his number one, a fleshy smelly
onion soup in a ceramic pan.

 
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