I am insatiable.

but it comes as naturally as song.

pleasantly perfected to preform precise plays meant to perplex the person on the other end of the phone.

mamas say that when her fists rap into chests it’s just a love tap.

“baby she likes you”

& maybe i’d like you

if i didnt love him.

see you’re not him & my mind body and soul know it

never wanting to show it.

You’re too willing to hold me,

so you’ll wrap me in your arms only holding his place.

I might kiss your lips but I’ll swear it was his face.

A new type of dissimulation

A fresh batch of pastries for a each new patron.

Jimmy Neutron couldnt create a palate that could abhor my sweets.

The inimitable concoction of sugar and spice and everything nice.

I doctor them up; a slight hint of debauchery & cooked in forbiddings.

I am what mothers warn their sons of.

Yet my apron is only worn in his absence.

I stare at the closed sign waiting for it to turn.

Until then I’ll serve warm treats with a sticky sweet smile,

“wont you have a sample of our latest dessert?”