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A dash of cinnamon and a
Grainy pinch of sugar enchants my tastebuds
And the sensation is overwhelming,
Allowing me to ignore my surroundings completely.
As a slice of caramelized apple slides its
Way down my throat I open my eyes slowly and
I feel myself hyperaware of
Every touch, every smell, every noise, every sight.
As I stir the pot, an aroma wafts into my
Taste buds and an emotion solely described as
Wonder takes over my muscles,
Causing my blank stare to light up in
Every way possible.
A beep erupts and the crust is finished,
Pieces breaking off – a sign of perfection.
The caramel drizzles onto the crust and
A drop lands on my skin, only for a minute until
I lick it off, not before it
Sears my skin and reminds me of my mistakes.
The caramel is delicious, perfect.
Not all mistakes are bad ones.
Back in the oven the pan goes,
Only for a minute or two before it is overcooked.
It tastes so much better when it’s imperfect.
When it finishes cooking, we toast:
To the things that give us
Glimpses of happiness
Moments with serenity and peace,
Allowing us to leave our imperfections behind
Even if it’s momentarily
Liquid slides down my throat and
This inevitable event recurs yet again
Between my senses and emotions