This is a recipe I know.

Throw in what you have, but be careful with the things that are precious, the ingredients
that you only bring out for the best,
and somehow, make it work.
Some things are saved for only the best.
I am not a chef – only a good cook. I have learned the ways that the ingridients mix, I have learned the base of them – I have learned the lessons.
But
I find it difficult to create something out of nothing. I find it difficult to dream something that might never have been if it weren’t for someone else there to appreciate it. It is nothing, it is lost and no better than dead without someone delighting in what you have created for them.

There is no creation worth anything without love, and i am such a cautious glutton.

I stand by your table as I serve you
me
I step back,
wanting you so much to roll me around on your tongue
wanting so much to see you taste
all of the different levels
as I peel myself away and give my creation
my creation, me
to you.

Can you taste everything? Is this only another meal offered
only another meal devoured with no words
and then
you ask for the check
pay the price
and I understand.
This was just a meal, nourishment
and you have eaten my heart, my soul, everything out of what i had
which was nothing but the desire to please you.

and you pay what you need to
dissapear as I go back behind the doors
and wait for someone else who i might believe in
looking through the small glass panes
looking for that someone who might want to taste everything
selecting and finding no one
and waiting, impatiently waiting for you
to come back.

I can’t send you love poems. With every word
i am terrified of pushing you away. With every word
I grow more distant,
I grow closer, clearer in its release.
I give you everything and take it all back
i give you everything, and it is yours to keep.
I give, but the walls are brilliantly constructed
and I only give
as little as I can
until you ask for more.

ask.
please ask.

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