Cream Corn Chowder
Despicable
How it drips down the side
Bubbling up from the innards of the pot
I can hear the sizzling
The smell of the butter drenched corn
I throw in a bit of salt and pepper
To spice up the contents
Cream splashes up, upon my cheek
I leave it.
The light burning sensation begins to fade
As I step away, breathing intensely
This alone reminded me of my younger years.
Frightened yet interested
In how the cream drizzled corn was hesitant to conform.
How I yearn for the old me
Who could make batches of milky substance,
Yet now I struggle
With the makings of one
My fingers felt greasy
Like those nights years ago
How I would work every evening
Hoping you enjoyed the taste
My eyes sparkling,
Lost in the thoughts
The slurping and screeching
Of the boiling brew
The fragrance of corn graces my nostrils
Flashes of memories flood in
Your body, yet again
Covered in the opalescent matter
You used to love my cream corn chowder
The same way I still desire you
Yet there’s always a bowl of higher quality.
Saddened, as I turn the flame on low
Let it seethe,
Let it come to a halt.
Now I await to enjoy
Like those feasts years ago
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