Comfort Food

Spaghetti and Waffles.
Dinner and Breakfast.
Tangled and Neat.

I am spaghetti and you are waffles.
I am messy and you are sectioned neatly.
I am complicated and you are simple.
I think in loops and you think in right angles.
I interweave every possible story and you keep things appropriately separate.
I combine my emotions and you use one at a time.
It's hard to find my end and you have defined yours.
I let sauce fly everywhere and you've got perfect little syrup cubicles.
I never know when to stop and you know when you've hit your wall.

Swirls and Cubes.
Different and Incomplete.
Yet so compatible and so fulfilling.

When I cannot see where I begin and end, you mark out my lines and untwist my strings.
When you cannot break free from your thinking blocks, I soften your edges and let the syrup overflow a bit.
When my feet sway and zigzag, you line them back up on the straight and narrow.
When your head gets red and heated, I remind you of what's really important.

I'll add some sugar.
You'll add some spice.
Let's eat.