beauty, love, poetry, women

Kitchen

I’m there

To take the edge off

Some safe place

Where you don’t have to

Guess or be guessed

Not so complicated

In my estimation

Whatever chaos rains from

Your sky just needs a stout umbrella

And I’ve weathered worse storms

Even danced and called a few of them

But I’m still good, wild magic

Just working towards

The same things and when they’re done

Pay you some time and mind

Brush the soft press of dust

Clinging to your soul

Not mine to save

But to savour

Sips and sometimes gulps

But you feed something

In me which makes me quiet

Slow and steady

Like the evenings in the

Kitchen

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