blather
buttermilk_pie
Soma I’m sitting in the kitchen
I think I’m ten?
It’s not like my age really matters much
We’re poor. Dad’s angry most evenings.
Yadda yadda
I haven’t had a dessert in ages.
Thinking about it now, you’re probably exhausted
But you baked a pie
And tell me about how your mother made it
I eat a slice and it’s heaven
Soft and velvety and warm
Sweet and smooth in my mouth

I still love it, even though I’m not a pie_person
Eating it is a memory
And though I’ve got a lot of bitter ones
This is still as sweet as the pie

These days i make my own pie
In my own kitchen
But you’re still there, mom
In the same weirdly sweet way as that damn pie
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