reflections on breakfast

I've cooked another egg today
and as always, I'm surprised
by the malleability of it.
The clear membrane that surrounds
the delicate heart inside.

I could kill it easily. I chose peace today.
My fingers slide over the thinly-encased yolk
threatening to puncture, the sticky residue
clinging to my skin, whispering a hymn
that I am unable to understand.
The little teeth on my hands, a deadly weapon

Now there's a crime scene resting
on my palms―I drop the body,
hot, sizzling, asymmetrical, into the pan;
the golden insides ooze out and solidify
along with the milky whites.

I hoped I wasn't a murderer
as I shoveled the warm meal
into my mouth, down my
greedy gullet.

my professor described this as an "egg eulogy" ... i like that