Goat Cheese and Chives

Staring at each other

As you flipped omelets

In boiling butter

With goat cheese and chives

I watched you flip eggs

The world

Upside down in pale yellow

A world melting

Dotted with flecks of green

Chunks of white

That ooze goodbyes

From the stove

And I stare at the

Popcorn ceiling

Chunks of white

Crumbling in my hand

Dust all over my fingers

Dust in the omelets

Dust in the boxes by the door

Chunks of white in our hair

That day, you made eggs

But you didn’t make them

For Mom

You made them after I

Screamed from the stairs

I knew what I saw

What I heard

Who you were

But I didn’t know then

What you wanted to say

How the eggs would taste

That you loved a man

You wanted to leave

To go live the life you

Couldn’t live with us

Your kids

Chunks of white

In a sea of brown boxes

Screaming from the stairs

Asking you to stay

When you sat me down

Put the omelet before me

I cried because it tasted

So good and so bad

The bits of green didn’t say

Goodbye- the yellow

Didn’t say forever

They just existed

Dripping off the plate in

A montage of shared plates

You used to make for us

In the summertime

When you finished speaking

I wasn’t angry anymore

Just wishing you’d had

Someone to hold you

The way you held me

When I stubbed my toes

Or fell off my bike or

Got so tired I couldn’t

Stand up anymore

But now I’m grown

And every year since

The omelets you made

We’ve made new plates

For each other and new

Memories with new

Mouths to feed

I like that I have one

Father I was born with

And one that grew out of

Chives and goat cheese