EASY BAKE IT

sometimes when we bake
our oils
massage electricity
vanilla currents
cardamon verve

we sift
and measure
the rest
of a skeletal
leftover
wrapped in tin foil
a celestial swan
a figurine
a lone feather
lost
somewhere
in a china cabinet
in life's parliment
funkadelic

i want to mix it up
and drip ribbons
scatter sprinkles
down your vertebrae
dig out the fatty marrow
from your bones
and slather it on my skin
slurp with my tongue

i want to carmelize onions
slowly
on flame's whisper
in a black tar pan
cast iron
sugar withdrawal

the smell of warmth
of the gelatanious goo
of brown butter
of the smell inside
dances
through circles
melting
circles
straight
to ovals
to eights

to figure eights
lounging
on a divan
of polenta
indentation of form
swirling
cornmeal
cascading mamaliggah
the yiddish
youth
hot
in a bowl
steaming
arms open
for the honeyed
butter
butter
a patina
of golden
of Giotto
of Renaissance.

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