A *** bubbles
up and under
the shaky lid
clamped shut.

As a child,
my mother would
chide me for

lifting the lid
of rice and
stirring too early.

I was letting
out all the
steam.

But the bubbles
sticky white and
bursting over begged

to be released.

For a time,
my body was
not my own.

I boiled,
simmered,
then cooled.

Lifted the lid,
scraped the sides,
and stirred.