#sizzling
The chef holds the knife in the air for a brief second,
Then brings it down, slicing through the food.
We feel the heat from the grill splash our face,
a mix of grease sizzles from the flames.
This wasn’t a bad place to get out of the house.
I’m glad that we chose to come here.
Not being funny when I say this,
but there’s something about the way you eat.
Hunger is hunger, but you’re pretty
the way you hold your fork to your mouth,
the way your cheeks move up and down.
If the conspiracy theorists are right
and the world ends in the next few minutes,
you’ll have savored the last taste of my air,
the last taste of this place,
the last taste of this neighborhood.
If I were to tell you how I feel in this moment,
you’d swear I was trying to talk about you.
But it’s more than that.
I love the way your eyes are satisfied with what’s in front of you
and how soft they become.
The chef chops and sizzles the rice, onions, shrimp, and steak.
The oil and sauces bubble up on the grill,
mixing into the smoke, the grill hissing,
watching us feed ourselves one bite at a time.
Public decency is a thing,
though a kiss is the only thing I must settle for.
I want to rise from you like the steam rises from the grill,
the salt of your skin melting on my tongue
as soon as it touches.
It’s comforting watching you eat,
the way the sauce that marinated the shrimp
smears against your lips,
the way you lick it off
like nothing’s happened.
The chef throws more food on the grill
and clangs his spatula.
We’re far from full,
and I’m glad that of all places,
we decided to come here.
The air is filled with savory smells,
and still, I smell your perfume.
I catch you staring at me,
but it’s not just any stare
I love it, the way you look at me.
Whatever piece of you still hungers
bites off pieces of me every time you blink.
To think of your stomach as my final resting place,
your lips drenched in soy sauce.
If you could devour me whole, I bet that you would.
After all, our feelings,
this way we feel about each other,
are as raw as the meat and veggies
the hibachi chef throws on the grill,
and the way you smile,
and the way you wiggle and dance in your seat.
I want to be one of the things that satisfies you like that
the way you smile, the way you look at me,
making me feel just that.
Not just exposed,
but taming your hunger in complete satisfaction.
My heart beats and clangs
like the spatula in front of us.
There’s no sense in hiding what we feel,
soon the hunger will become too much.
The smoke from the grill intensifies this feeling tenfold.
Regardless of the lights, the other couples,
the rice or the steak,
you're not food.
No matter how bad I want to wrap my lips around you.
When the check comes, there’s no point in looking at it with question.
We’re both satisfied
Dec 4, 2024
Dec 4, 2024 at 1:06 AM UTC
sizzling hot, melted rock
rise up
from the earth, split twain
a cracked moon, breaking soon
resting neatly
overhead
the sky turns purple
the stars go out
it is night
for everything foreseeable
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 10:10 AM UTC
Our glory days over
Ability to choose what is best for us fading from fingertips
One thought over all others stands out
'We are shooting stars'
Another firework sizzling out in cool black air
Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 10:14 AM UTC
so effing hot today
my skin melting
fat crackling
muscles sizzling
flesh evaporating
bones cracking
skeleton crumbling
burning down
to glowing embers
even my ashes echoing
lamenting the heat
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 10:42 PM UTC
His nocturnal desires have awoken,
they roam carelessly on the moonlit highway.
Tangled in cryptic and claustrophobic visions,
hands on the steering wheel; aiming at prey.
It hails with burned-out dreams,
morphine-filled words whisper about salvation.
Pines sprinkle their prickly love on his ragdoll,
igniting the poor man's gold excavation.
Lemon drops poured into his frayed heart,
a nirvana of thoughts etched in the sky.
The beacon revealed his method of madness,
he kept the grain of salt in his eye.
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 3:03 PM UTC
It is a smile on the turpitude of scorching sun that inflicts on us
A harbinger from the kingdom of heaven.
Descending from above -soothing ,dancing ,sizzling mizzling and torrential at times,
Sluicing down the earth bed ,end to end, wherever it touches.
It has power to sustain this world
It has the power to raze this world
It has the power to ornament this world
It made this abode a rarest one in the matrix of the whole universe
From past to present, ever and forever.
It is a presence felt as long as the earth is green,the sun shines,
The ocean whirls and the moon chuckles,
Be it called -the clouds,rain ,life or water
All in one the manifestation of the other.
A benediction from the Soul Supreme
To which we all owe our existence.
By D.R.Mohanty
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC