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.