Cream Corn Chowder

Despicable How it drips down the side Bubbling up from the innards of the pot I can hear the sizzling The smell of the butter drenched corn I throw in a bit of salt and pepper To spice up the contents Cream splashes up, upon my cheek I leave it. The light burning sensation begins to fade As I step away, breathing intensely This alone reminded me of my younger years. Frightened yet interested In how the cream drizzled corn was hesitant to conform. How I yearn for the old me Who could make batches of milky substance, Yet now I struggle With the makings of one My fingers felt greasy Like those nights years ago How I would work every evening Hoping you enjoyed the taste My eyes sparkling, Lost in the thoughts The slurping and screeching Of the boiling brew The fragrance of corn graces my nostrils Flashes of memories flood in Your body, yet again Covered in the opalescent matter You used to love my cream corn chowder The same way I still desire you Yet there’s always a bowl of higher quality. Saddened, as I turn the flame on low Let it seethe, Let it come to a halt. Now I await to enjoy Like those feasts years ago