Spicy sauces
stirred together
in spider
webbed,
candle lit kitchens,
knives and
spoons
clamor to voice
their opinions
on just a dash
more
garlic, or no,
and whether
light
gets hungry at
3 in the morning
for tacos and
ice cream
just like I do.
I smiled so big
in a way that
stretched my
brain out,
wide open I saw
the rain,
and felt
sweeping
thankful warmth
rush through me
the way whiskey
feels going
down,
down to the
balls
of your feet.
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