Sunday, December 4, 2011


oh the chef at work in love
swooshing soon to be edible noises and quick quick pans...
exquisite objets d'arts will be here soon... 
it's the scent of promises kept.
i see my hands over the keys
and see that burn didn't go yet
the scar from the car door slam still there 
some people have manicurists, too much time and money
i have a migraine is that the same?
but the deep sea noises of the kitchen cure it calmly
and hearing him hum from zauberflote, that boy, naked but for an apron
the most beautiful man i have ever seen will approach me soon
and tell me, naked and proud, lunch is going to be served.
we will make love while we eat, our eyes, our lips, our legs, our toes
i will hope i don't cry or suddenly flip
if i do he will cradle me and laugh me out of it...
this man is a whisp
but he is immense.
his talent divine.
the savant boy has just begun
and i have seen something rare.

i have something rare.