One slice of toast,
four edges brown and black,
the butter knife's grooves caressing each side

On the table is a set of condiments
Jam, peanut butter, marmalade,
or, for the strong, Vegemite

I haven't had a leisurely breakfast in years.
Across the table is a man, with his own slice of toast
and a ring on his finger,
so all I can do is make small talk