Sunday, April 26, 2009

Rotisserie

I like my family.
We have a lot of fun together.
But I feel like we know each other too well.
We're like the rotisserie chicken we eat at least once a week.
It's delicious, nutritious, and satisfying.
And yet...I've had it so many times.

Before it even touches my lips, I know exactly what I'm going to taste.
The flavorful skin and molten brussel sprouts are no surprise.
I realize before it touches my plate that I will have to work around pieces of fat and thin bones.
I have momentary enjoyment and yet...I don't grow as a person.

The experience has become superficial and empty.
As much as I love them, my family has lost its flavor.

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