My latest original five-line poem, as inspired partly by listening to my all-time favorite, heart-breaking song, “Burn,” by Ray LaMontagne, and also by the fact that I’ve been cooking a lot lately (more on that soon!).
sauté my skin in my the oils of my despair —
careful as it bubbles and sizzles —
stir until the hard edges soften;
serve on a pristine bun of promise,
not noticing the mold there, too.