biscuit.

Kyoko held her plate of Scottish oat biscuits up to breathe deeply.
each tiny bit of fruit speckled the tawny surface.
she wondered how something could be so good.

yes, it tasted good.
still it was more than that.
this biscuit was not baked with intentions.
but with a precious purpose.
like a wish dropped in a well.
to be treasured and
tucked away into the corners
of her secrets.
when new days are broken
and sunset turns the trees black.
she knows time is passing,