VEGAN DINNER FOR TWO

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