Cooking my Insides

My tears that slope the curved hills are salted with joy and spiced with purpose. They water the songs of my skin with notes of ranged oblivion. 
My breath tends my internal city, cooking to perfection.
Oxygen steams the veintables;my bones saturate in flavored fat

and I morph into
celebrating chef. 


3 comments on “Cooking my Insides

  1. Elaine's Bloggers Paradise says:

    So different but in a good way 😊

  2. ankandas says:

    Beautiful.. 🙂 🙂

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