The place where I come from doesn't bekon me.

It's always just... there, like part of my DNA

That never really goes away.

My home town doesn't beckon.  It's just there.  It just waits.

The places where I spent time have all changed hands in time.

But if I went back, I'd find... nothing the same;

Except the name, which always reamains...unchanged.

It waits for my retu...

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Once upon a time, there was a cake that was not just a cake
It was the cocoa powder, dark and bitter earth
that once was seed, fruit, promise
It was the butter, golden fat, almost alive
melting under touch, like fear or desire
It was the sugar, sweet and cruel
dissolving into itself
like memories that refuse to be remembered

The eggs are cracked, fragile shells of worlds
and from them f...

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