Scent of Sweetness

The scent of flour permeates a crowded room.
A warm mattress rests in the corner, held by books.
The open window invites a burd in black.
She leans in, speaking with the patched man.
He holds a whisk and bowl—milk, eggs, vanilla, and flour.
Like a swaying serpent, he makes the batter in a swift motion,
as if he hadn’t lost his left arm.
The oven in the wall of the room begins to fill the space with warmth,
filling it with the sweet kiss of chiffon.
After the aster speaks beaucoup,
the chiffon cake finds its place on the table of papers.
The burd pecks at the man, wishing for a bite.
The man obliges, feeding the burd,
stroking her softly, his one eye smiling.