It would be easier to stab him
Than to cut this watermelon into even slices
Goddamn dull knife, impotent cutlery
He waits patiently in the living room
As smoke rises from pans
Temperature probably too high for the recipe
I’m in the kitchen wearing my favorite tie
An obvious first date in houses
My dogs sniff him and approve, and I smile
I’ll not burn the motherfucking dinner
He might be worth it
I enter the room and time stands still
He looks at me lovingly, as I overthink and pause
Motherfucking food on a well-planned platter
I carry it without spilling shit
Everything is where it should be
And that might include me
