when birthdays come,
you are always in the kitchen.
you say there’s nothing quite like
the gift of a sugar rush.
preheat the oven to 350 degrees
and let it hiss and burn and sigh;
this is getting ready for the day.
soften the butter
in ten then five then three second breaths.
a microwave heartbeat getting fasterand faster;
that’s what falling head over heels is like.
mix in sugar,
and don’t forget
to add a spoonful of crystals to your tea;
waking up is so much easier this way.
crack two eggs,
and let the yolks run in
like coming home.
never let yourself feel
like the discarded shells.
add two teaspoons of vanilla,
and take care to remember
the sweet-smelling things
can taste just as bitter.
sprinkle in enough flour and baking soda and salt
for the christmas day snow.
shiver in the dust clouds you make
every time you exhale.
are the semisweet chopped chocolate pieces,
the cocoa powder,
and the mixing.
make sure to place a little chocolate
on your tongue,
and let it melt
separate the dough into chunks;
let them be independent,
you can stand alone.
bake for fifteen minutes,
and play as many waiting games
as you’d like.you are a lesson in patience;
sometimes time moves in circles
and strange ways.
let distractions play tricks
on your halcyon mind.
take them out,
let them breathe,
to enjoy the sweeter things.