*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?