in her kitchen

cheers to hypothetical lovers and things to come

in her kitchen, there are peaches in a china bowl

white and pink, juicy and tender

she takes thick cuts of bacon and fries them

in the cast iron pan

and pancakes

buttery and rich and crisped in the fat

her hands press down the shaggy dough

earl grey scones and strawberry, too

in her kitchen, there are greenish towels

clay pots of soil

planted garlic bulbs with nowhere to sprout

blue glass bottles

in her kitchen i know the ways to love her well

i am patient and devout

she scrapes out the vanilla

i speak gently and quietly

my hands hardened,

my touch no longer heavy

i shoulder the prudence, a lifetime left

i return to dirt with tempered pragmatism

and give with my belt still buckled

i arch down

nature made bridges and bends

i stretch and bend for her

with ease and

she beats egg whites and squints out the sun

in her kitchen i am no longer the way that i was

i am no longer the way that i was

i am no longer the way that i was

i am in her kitchen and i am no longer the way

that i was