Jessica Lynne Furtado

A MOUTH, FULL

I am all hunger and caked hands
waiting for banana bread to rise.
For the first time in my life, patient
enough to birth a batter from scratch,
flour dusting fingerprints across
my apron, a ghost of evidence.
Creation is about the process,
each ingredient added to the right bowl
at the right moment, success
in precision. A minor flourish
could be the difference between
a mouthful and a mouth full
of want. I want to believe
that I won’t regret my decision
to hold my empty womb like a full
moon, eclipsed – the rare desired abyss
maintained with purpose. The bread
is perfection, all butter and confidence.
Better knowing I don’t even have to share it.

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