the divine one, cigarette-laced voice, said she wasn't used to waiting for men...but made an exception for handsome doctors. i tried not to gush, & she said she was "lucky, lucky, lucky," making a life of what she loved.
I'm a cook. And I write, sometimes about food, mostly poems. I make stuff. I get lost. I'm worried about vanishing bees, melting icecaps, the decrease of civility in the world, seedless watermelons, and whether there will be enough time for me to get it all right.
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