I Cant Cook Pancakes Anymore
She used to hold my hand (I pretended I was in charge)
My rock climber,
Her forehead was rough from chicken pox
My sweet-cheeks.
She is a permanent part of me,
My tattoo love.
I never let her fall,
My babe in arms.
What an unatural progress,
My gorgeous weirdo.
She was an apology for life's failings,
My beautiful distraction.
The universe should have taken me first,
My red giant.
No more singing and dancing
My darlin', my lass.
And no rudder in the epic stillness,
My guiding star.
No longitude, no latitude,
My micrometer, my compass,
No pressure relief,
My barometer
She pointed me home,
My Polaris.
I dream of her running and turning her head to me,
My reverie,
I dream of her smiling my way,
My south facing window.
I am missing an ingredient
My sous chef,
So I cook nothing with eggs,
My egg cracker.
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