“Kitchen Bewitched” a delectable poem*

Come,

let me nourish you

let I drink from you- Ambrosia milky nectar

you nourish me too

like mama’s beans on a cloudy day cooking away

your smell intoxicates me it takes me

there hovering somewhere Between salty and savory

and tangy and sweet

no matter how many licks

I’ll never reach the Center of what makes you you

but I’d like to.

Wide and warm and pink

you remind me of watermelon

gushing sweet the moment I set my mouth

on you pink on pink

warm on warm wet on wet

culinarily? Dialectically? how you’ve handled me

can never be fathomed again

so I’ll spin and I’ll grin and I’ll call it a win

if I’ve tortured the tip of my tongue til its numb

at the sport of getting to know your flavor

[inhale] you transport me to powdered sugar bliss

Delicatessen quality pastry with the sugar smell that gets in

and on your nose. You--the

drool

honest to goodness drool pools in my cheeks just from this speech, a promise,

a wish,

a lubricating, necessitating, finger licking confirmation

The stuff of divine inspiration --

You, a perfect plump peach pastry on a plate

your subtle notes of crimson, saffron wasted on the eyes of men

pluck them out! Begin again

the version of the world, my friend, where you recline

a queen again, abed the vine-dripped grapes and wine

brought to you from the fields.

I swear you’re too good for this planet

Too in tune, too divine

To see yourself in time when time

is but a dream

And you, an ocean dweller queen,

Confined to where the air is sweet

Trying to find the real in dreams

Yawning oyster, full of pearls,

Spit them out! Slurp them free

Let them nourish you

Let me

Come

“Ambrosia” embroidered by @sadiesstitches photo by @sadiesstitches

—

some thoughts from the poet:

more like a *poernm amirite 🤭

Consider this poem my contribution to women’s history month. Recently I stumbled upon a parenting book club at my local library. They were discussing some book about the economics of being a woman/mother and while I can’t remember the name of the book or the author, I do remember that there was one part where the author basically jokes that the solution to the reader’s problems is “divorce your husband and become a lesbian.” This idea was presented tongue-in-cheek in the book and in the group, but I chose to remind the people there that the author’s encouragement to embrace a queer lens calls us to decenter men in our own making. And that’s my reminder to you here, too, beloved. Even to any men who may read this. Decenter the approval of and gaze of men and recenter yourself as an autonomous member of humanity. You’re allowed to center your own pleasure and uplift your own being.