Simmering rice, each grain
a swelling promise kept,
and steamed windows,
veil of vapors between
our exclusive biome
and the rest of Everything.
I’ll wash the beans, darlin’,
while the onion crisps
with the bell pepper,
chambered like a heart.
We’ll plant the seeds together.
They say the secret is in the saute,
but I know it’s in the way
you honor the flesh.
-Melissa Donley