In the wake of darkness
I could pick you out of a crowd
Just by the smell of your scent
Because it's my favorite perfume

I could pick you out of a crowd
With no doubt in my mind
Because it's my favorite perfume
You wear it all the time

With no doubt in my mind
I would wear it when you no longer do
You wear it all the time
I will not ever stop taking it in

I know you are my mother
Just by the smell of your scent
No matter where I am
Even in the wake of darkness

When I first saw you
I knew I wanted to change
With no idea of what I’d become
My perspective of beauty was altered
To explore the world, far and wide
I had what I needed by my side
It showed when
I broke out of my shell

Focused on my flaws
I turned them into veins
The vibrant colors are my pain
At one point in time
I crawled through life
But now I fly above
The things I cannot change
I am humbled by my transformation
For this is my butterfly year

I wonder what you see
When you look at me
Behind the big lips
Underneath the dark brown eyes
Hidden between my teeth

I wonder what you see
When you hear me talk
Behind the rudeness in my voice
Underneath my wet, slick tongue
Hidden between my pauses

I wonder what you see
When I look at you
Behind the ****** expressions
Underneath my silence
Hidden between my busy mind
Grasping all that you have to say

I wonder what you see
When there is nothing between us
Behind our eyes
Underneath our clothing
Hidden between our bodies

What do you see?

Shredded by the hands
Of the most tasteful
The slimy texture
Fades from the grill
Firming up
To be dressed
More like doused in a sea
Of smooth,
Creamy,
Spicy sauce

At dusk
The smell strings
Along
Lingering around
My nostrils
The hot, fieriness
Singes
My nose hairs
Causes my forehead to
Perspire
Ever so slightly

The crackling
From the raw,
Slimy
Chicken cooking
On the grill
Makes me smile from ear to ear
The mixing of the sauce
With the cooked,
Disheveled chicken
Coming together as one
Hearing the sound
Of the chip bag
Makes me feel
Warm inside

The sight of my mother’s
Crockpot
With the delectable
Buffalo chicken inside
The steam
Protruding
Evaporating
Into thin air
The bright
Orange
Color
Consumes my brown eyes
Making my mouth water
With every bubble that forms

The first bite is a
Gateway
To the heavens
Every bite thereafter is
Simple equilibrium
Whilst it lays
In the heart of
The tortilla chip
The juicy chicken
Between my teeth
The buffalo sauce
Shooting its spice
And lighting up
My taste buds
Flavor embarks
While the chewed-up bits
Go down a dark tunnel
To a large, empty
Basin.