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You came through the screen door
Smelling like smoke and sunrise
Hair tangled like Spanish moss
And I forgot how to breathe, or lie, or leave
You buttered my biscuits
Without asking
Just slid the plate across the table
Eyes like hot honey
Voice thick as peach cobbler in July
Pulled pork on a paper plate
Steam rising like secrets from the barn
I didn’t know love was this messy
This slow
This tender after hours of fire
But here you are
My grit, my gravy, my green bean casserole
We moved like molasses in a sun-baked kitchen
Sausage on the skillet
Dumplings sinking into broth
I watched you lick cornbread crumbs off your thumb
And somewhere in there, I gave up my last defense
They all warned me about women like you
Said moonshine love burns clean through the lungs
But I drank anyway
Burned anyway
Woke up tasting your jam on my lips
And no regrets
Pulled pork on a paper plate
Sticky fingers, and no napkins left
We made something slow and ugly and perfect
Under a tin roof
With the radio hissing our sins
So go on now
Pack your melons, your honey butter smile
Leave me with the bones
I’ll be here with my skillet
Still warm
Still waiting
Still tasting your love like fried okra on a paper napkin
mmmm mmm yeah
