Reed Weiler // SPOON

This metallic message from god

Tells me to ice cream, or stir the milk into the coffee cup

It has been sent to us from above

A smooth specimen, rounded by the heavens, and cool to the touch

 like the gentle breeze of the ocean

or the caress of an infant’s tiny hand.

It does not need to be sharp, for it possesses the divine power to feed

I look at it, and it looks back at me

The distorted reflection smiles

As the sound of my laughter rings off of it

There is nothing quite like a spoon.