Stewing Romance
A tune flickered on the radio
As we waltzed into the kitchen
My hand wraps around yours
As I flick on the stove top with the other.
You grab a pot out of the cupboard
And I grab the meat from the fridge
You spray down the warming metal
And I grab out the vegetables
I peel the potatoes gently
Trying to watch you from the corner of my eyes.
You tenderize the pork
Your hands pressing down and squeezing softly
I groan aloud, by mistake
The sizzling and popping have arrived
And I still have carrots to chop.
You turn to smile at me delicately
The table slams
And I awake, alone in the kitchen.
It was just another memory
Of a time, long before now.
The stew warms gradually upon gradient flames
I open the lid to see juices flowing over bite sized pieces of meat
This caused a sensation of heartache and lust
As I stir gently the meat melts away from bone
A shiver runs down my spine as I watch
Like an outsider looking in
I tear away bit by bit as secretion splashes against potatoes
I no longer care; I know I need this.
I rip and smack until I couldn’t anymore
Just like those forgotten years.
I place a shaking finger into the stew
Licking away the sweet nectar
Where are you, I thought
You always made such flavorful fluids
As we laid entangled
We could create better together now.
Both older and wiser
Like the soups of old.
I turn the stew on low as the doorbell rings
I open to see my past.
You stand in the doorway
Yet again,
With a stew twice the size of mine
I no longer care, I need this.
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