Friday afternoon
I am alone
In the sunlit kitchen
an amateur
sous-chef
in love
cooking a vegan dinner
for you and for me
I am cutting a family of leeks
remove their heavy green skirts
then wash their necks
they are like dirty tykes
now they look like waxy candles
my knife slices them into equal rings
white and green rings
I will put one on your finger
you are my leek bride
while I imagine
we savor a plate
of intense earthy
leek soup
seasoned with love
now a quiver of green arrows
asparagus
they are so uncouth at the bottom
but so sophisticated at the top
that little hat makes me laugh
I gently do surgery
bottom discarded
tops laid out like green children
in a common bed
drizzling golden olive oil on their heads
in silent blessing
now anointing them with spices
pungent oregano
sensual rosemary
laughing dill
into the oven
roast until a hint of burn
voila! put aside until later
while I bless you too
with the oil of our love
and the spice of our laughter
translucent
pale green beans
just trim the ends
the boiling water
brings them to perfection
like life sometimes
boils you and me
in the heat
of circumstances
but we emerge
stronger and closer
small brown potatoes
how cute
like eggs laid by the
potato chicken
I do not reveal
their nakedness
no--cooked in their
brown skins
we too sometimes
do not reveal our pain
and nakedness
afraid to disappoint
until we learn
that love is blind
dessert
chocolate pudding
I imagine the richness melting
on all your taste buds at once
eyes rolling upward
little sounds of satisfaction
I wonder if a kiss from you
would also taste like this
time to set the table
two candlesticks
two chaste white candles
crystal glasses for the wine
I wish you were here already
sitting next to me
I serving you
the fruits of my labor
and eat and talk
and talk and eat
and take joy in one another
and lick the spoon clean of pudding
and kiss