True Love
A large, rotund woman,
fat rolling over her khakis,
gets the bread dough, which
is the color of her skin and
beats it.
Her squat, chubby knuckles
squeeze into the dough, pushing,
pulling, kneading, squishing, tugging.
All her frustrations of the day
go into that beating.
Her kitchen is small and yellow,
with grand windows and a gas stove,
but no microwave-
this woman likes to bake.
"Don't you use those crap machines.
Turns food into slop. Pig slop.
Food is s'posed to taste like food.
Like heaven," she says, shoving her giant fingers
into the dough.
She wipes her hands on a dirty
apron, and leans all her heavy self against
the counter.
A small, mousy man comes in from the garden.
Tries to wrap his arms around her, but can't.
He reaches up, on tiptoes and whispers,
"Darling, you're so beautiful."
Gender:
Points: 890
Reviews: 45