Saimin
Nostalgia
Seeps from the mind
Leaving only miserable fragments in wake
A lone noodle
At the bottom of the bowl
Cup Ramen
Or restaurant worthy
The hot water doesn’t care
Run, Run,
Far as you can,
You’ll get hungry eventually
Take chances,
Or end up with a
Full bowl of cold saimin
Fishcake, shrimp, beef,
All too sweet
To last long
Steam rising from saimin
Is just as solid as the noodles themselves
Every stone has a shadow
Dipping chopsticks back into the bowl
For the noodle
You know is there
Hope
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