I like watching you in the kitchen.

Your motions are swift,
from the stove to the food processor
to the sink to the dishwasher
it's one seamless flurry.
A graceful hustle.

Country music is playing in the background.
You don't know all the words,
but every once in a while
a lyric escapes your honeyed mouth.
I smile
because it's a line filled with weight.
A heavy pondering
with careful reflection.
I can see that in your smile.

As I sit here,
eyeing you with adoration,
you approach me
with a petite sample on a silver fork.
I do not hesitate
to open my mouth,
like a baby bird begging for a secondhand worm.

Just like everything you have ever given me,
it is marvelous.
It's of good quality and impeccable flavor,
ladled forth
from a generous heart.

I like it here in your domain.
My eyes will feast on this view
forever.