deepundergroundpoetry.com

My Sous-Chef
(toujours premier jamais dernier)
my confidant
when I am not so confident
stirring my crème,
bringing me to a boil
rising my steam
she sweats my hot oil
until I become
slippery and
wet
making sure that I reach the appropriate consistency
before climbing on top of me
and kneading my dough,
rising my yeast and.......
…...”there I go, there I go, there I go” ( "Moody's Mood for Love") ❤️
Mmmm, season to taste
she sprinkles me with
Basil, Adobo, Sazón
a bittersweet affirmation,
the soft, sensual expression
shown upon her face......
….yes, her “Mona Lisa” smiles
my confidant, non-confident,
my libidinous moon simmers
until every bit of my essence is spent........
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