The day breaks open,
like a child's hand in a cookie jar, with the hope of enough sweets.
But if we take too much, our hands will be stuck.
To pull it out safely we have to take only what's due to us.

There are many who may break the cookie jar,
but not let go of the sweets. Then there is no cookie jar left for others tomorrow.

Nature leaves a cookie jar open every morning.
We decide what our hand takes back.
If keep breaking the jar, there will be none left one day.

May there be enough.

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Everytime you look at....

(Read the poem in caption)

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Brown cookies

Before you go on, sugar
Listen to my sad tale

My heart churns round, round and round for you
Day 177 and I've kept myself celibate away
Like a sad nun in a church, in wait of the return
her bridegroom, she calls her Lord

I'm the everlasting sinner in wait of confession with the Father
But I saw a light from the heavens; alas it was your radiance
Compelling and dazzling, Queen of the Devil's mermaids
I melted like butter from burning thoughts of lust

Whirl and turn the love into your batter
This fragile eggs can break and break
Dip me deep into fillings of your chocolate
But hear my tale before you bake my words

-True life story

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