Cooking for the Queen

Poetry, Uncategorized

In the kitchen I am always cooking for the queen
She will notice the singe in my butter
She will see the specks of herb among the tomato
And think the beans over cooked –

But she will not know the way the rosemary prickled my palms or the
Sting of that slipped knife under my skin –
The tang of that old
Memory that hovered in the steam
As I stirred
And stirred
My secret smile

I will watch carefully now each of the corners
Of her
Mouth.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s