*Note: please do not read if your sensibilities would be offended by foul language or sexual content
Cookbooks and such
I wonder if you still have that cookbook
That we used the few times we stayed in
And made a real meal together
Fucking on the counter
Letting the food burn just a little
While we tasted each other.
I wonder if you ever rub your thumb
Over the stain on page 83
And remember rubbing your thumb
Down my breast, around my thighs, straight into me
Tracing grooves in my body that I can still feel.
Do you ever open the book and smell us
Mixing in with the cumin and oregano?
Or have you lost your passion for cooking
The way you lost it for me?