#8: the Intangible

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What it would be like

…to transform a flame into wildfire igniting each blood vessel with desire

…to roam the earth by wind and bring two bodies together

…to dance with the sun to a song of silence in darkness forever and ever

…to be born into a moment and conquer the mind only to die a moment later by another

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Breizh Café Crêperie Review

BREIZH. BRITTANY. FRANCE.

A little piece of Northwestern France right here in Tokyo. Or more specifically, on the 13th floor of the Takashimaya building near Shinjuku station. It has beautiful open windows exposing the restaurants charming terrace for the crêpe lovers to see while they enjoy a piece of Breizh on a plate.

davVal de Rance Cru Breton Cidre Doux. Beer from fruit, or more specifically, the apple. It was chilled, bubbly, and definitely not pumped with that artificial sugar crap. I could go into detail about how they make apple cider from Brittany but I wouldn’t want to spoil it if or when you decide to see for yourself in Brittany (or google it after reading this) so I won’t.

The subtly sweet cider complimented my “savory crepe,” or also known as galette. I ordered the eggs, ham, and potatoes galette, which was absolutely  just under perfect.
davIt’s probably because I was still finishing my salad when it arrived but even sitting for a few minutes, my galette turned a little crispy at the edges and corners, which made it a little difficult to cut and eat. The flavors of the rich yolk, stringy cheese, sautéed mushrooms, and salty slices of ham were present but the means for putting them together on a fork was difficult each time.

Moving on to the pièce de résistance. Now this was the crêpe to end all crêpes. It enveloped the very definition of what a crêpe is supposed to be: thin, simplistic, and used as a vehicle for the accompanying sweets that sit on top of it for the ride.
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The ball of classic vanilla juxtaposed the deep amber colored salted caramel sauce that was fresh from the boiling saucepan with the perfect consistency. You can taste the buerre de Breizh which harmonized with the deep caramel flavors to make this sauce as drinkable as the apple cider they sell by the barrels. In other words, I would sell my soul for this crêpe.

You can find a Breizh Cafe Crêperie in the Shinjuku, Ginza, and Shibuya locations. And maybe I’ll see you there for a second (or fifth) round of heaven.

Formule galette + salade 1580 yen not including dessert.

A hui hou ❤

#6: Turmoil

 

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Facial Tissue

Turmoil within locked in a box

boils then simmers then boils the

oil the toxic hate that warps the

coil around your neck and

soils the love you had for yourself

spoils the “love” you now give to yourself so you

recoil from the love that’s given to you

thinking it’s just as toxic as the living, breathing resentment inside you.

Forgiveness is the key to unlock that box

but you’ve buried that key six feet under your house.

Free yourself from yourself.

#5: For you, Nina.

The day breaks with birds flyin high
Still sitting on the floor
Foil in hand from previous nights
And then
I hear her, I feel her
Running through my veins
Like a river
Running free
Her voice flowers the color of acoustics
Breeds half notes and whole ones
With fervor into music
Igniting
The fire
Firing power and desire
I set foot
On the keys of the piano
While she spits her scats
With aim and precision
Crescendo!
Freedom is yours and mine Nina,
You know how I feel.

#4: The End

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She trots across the room

with baby blue jeans and pink shoes

with bulbous brown eyes she looks up at you

with glossy lips from spoonfuls of squash

you feed her, I see it now, her lusc-

-ious kisses stain you with blush

a never ending warmth

like the first sip of tea or broth

or the first sunrise to welcome the new month

and with every sunrise, the sun sets

day after day it rests

to remind me it’s

the end

her trots

my thoughts

her gloss-

-y lips that can’t talk

her pudgy legs that won’t walk

all for reasons I cannot

comprehend or begin to explain

the anger, the rage, the frustration, the pain

it boils, it emulsifies, it defiles, it reverberates

throughout the empty, dark corners of me.

We never met you but we love you, our sweet honey bee.