Cosmic Kitchen

The term “cosmic kitchen” is a term my friend coined and I am now borrowing.   

My cosmic kitchen is run by a Gordon Ramsey type chef.   The orders he receives are cooked in magical form.  

My friend and I are single and will text each other when our hormones kick in high gear reminding us that nature wants us to find a mate.  We have an open forum any emotion is welcome when we have the notion a boyfriend is needed.   

This is friend and I were recently communicating via text that “siiiigh i wish i had a boyfriend.”    I conveyed to her that I believe that the universe will send someone when the time is right and I should practice patience.   This is where we thought about our cosmic kitchen.  

I’ve sent my order in to my Gordon Ramsey type chef detailing the ins and outs of what makes me, me!  He believes that his creation needs times and to be carefully crafted.   In essence I’ve been told to enjoy myself at the kitchen table, taste a few complementary hot from the oven honey buns, and be happy where I am at.  
What does your cosmic kitchen look like?

Solemn Vow

I can’t let you hurt me anymore.    You are in my head.  You are in my dreams.  My lost thoughts are of you.   But it all leaves me empty.   I have to remind myself that you make me empty.    I have somehow lost that part of me that has the power to flick you off with the twitch of my finger.  

I can spot you a mile away.  My breath disappears.   My heart thumps in my ears.  Those golden butterflies flutter in my belly.   I see nothing else and I hear nothing else.    Those are my vulnerable parts I have for you.   They are the sacred things I never share.  

You invest nothing of yourself in me.   I invest the stars in you.   

I stand here blindly.  It will take the strengh of a 1000 men to lift my lashes and open my eyes.   To no longer be blind.  To no longer be empty.