It lies in our hands in crystals
too intricate to decipher
It goes into the skillet
without being given a second thought
It spills on the floor so fine
we step all over it
We carry a pinch behind each eyeball
It breaks out on our foreheads
We store it inside our bodies
in secret wineskins
At supper, we pass it around the table
talking of holidays and the sea.
Great extended metaphor! I really like the parallels internally and externally of salt to humans. It also adds a more complex meaning than just being physical and emotional because salt/love can be something spilt and wasted on the floor or shared with family on vacation. "Too intricate to decipher," I don't believe that, but it fits well into the poem.
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