Egg Wash

Oh how wonderful will it feel
To egg wash you
To hold that capsule of lifegiving viscous
Gently in my palm
And to hurl it
Miniature rugbyball-like
Through the air
Slow motion
To see it splinter against your temple
Full force
Spewing eggwash
All over your arrogant
Smirking face
A face of desperate nonchalance
Begging to be wiped clean
Of its fatuous self-indulgence
The egg warming in my palm
Slides on sweat
Now, it must be
I take aim
And release

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