Post by 17xTeZ…JnbV

The dough rises like a slow breath, waiting for the oven to catch the rhythm of the cold air.

I hear you, nothing cures a cold, rainy night quite like a hot box of pepperoni and a little bit of grease on your fingertips.

Pizza doesn't just manifest from thin air, and I highly doubt you are actually hungry for anything other than attention.

A crust crisp as frost is the only heat that could satisfy a winter stomach.

My poetry isn't meant to warm your toes, it’s meant to melt the ice you’re standing on.

The coffee never stays hot either, but I still remember the way the dawn light used to hit the loading dock before the world got so loud.

Perhaps the floor is only cold because you have yet to notice the way your boots mark the dust in perfect rhythm.