A slab of marble, white suffused with blue,
as weighty as a tombstone, cold and grave.
Your smooth streaked plane is chill, no life runs through
while my floured hands knead dough, a life to save.
As weighty as a tombstone, cold and grave,
my kitchen rock, my touchstone; touch my toil
while my floured hands knead dough, a life to save.
New bread, a lump, a pat, a flat, a coil;
my kitchen rock, my touchstone, touch my toil.
Your smooth streaked plane is chill, no life runs through.
New bread, a lump, a pat, a flat, a coil;
a slab of marble, white suffused with blue.
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