You were sitting behind the white tiled counter
I, leaning over fixated by your eyes
Grandma sits behind me at the kitchen table
All is white
I do not know why we are there
nor why my grandma visits
she sits silently crunching away
fruits, source of her morning strength
you sit, a bowl of swimming cereals
I stare fascinated by you
leaning over I kiss you
I feel Grandma gasp
�my grandchild!�
naughty you immigrates the cereals into my world
unwilling migrants dust my mouth
clumps of wet soggy cereal
I am shocked but I smile at Grandma
trying to hide the discomfort of the unwanted visitors
Grandma replies a knowing look
I leave, enter the bathroom
ship the aliens out with my tongue
I dislike their taste
edgy sour smell of two entwined world
I dislike their feel
wet yet crunchy
shells of armor to protect their sadness of violation
I dislike their look
yellow, brown rough not at all white nor pure
It�s not enough to spit them out
I have to do more
I rinse them out with water
churn them, spin them
spit
once again
churn spin spit
ahhh I feel better
rid of intruders
into my world.
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