The Recipe...

"Sometimes I wanna be your lova, Sometimes I wanna be your Friend
Sometimes I wanna hug you, hold hands, slow dance while the record spins..."
But around we go, & I just don't know why I can't comprehend
What makes us "We," the recipe is more than you and me
We gotta lot of love, kisses, hugs, and a bunch of history.
Mixed in our raves and rants, a sultry dance, a bit of animosity.
Then let it stew. Who knew our "Inner"courses would be such comfort food?!
Yet belemic tendancies worried me and made you sick,
Not so religious when we did this, as time lapsed
We tried to fast; but afta days and weeks we still would seek the comfort of that "food."
Sneakin' bites, late-night nibbles to satisfy the yearning,
Rather, the burning in my gut cause I hunger for a love that feeds my soul...

Soul food is how she tastes, is how she feels, is how she looks,
A recipe that will forever be etched in "My Life's Cookbook."
Not on loose leaf pages, or bound in corporate hard back covers,
As lovers we roast until heated & our juices flow. Slow drips from the corner of lips,
To chins. Spicey, yet sweet as sticks of cinnamon.
Seasoned with laughter and tears that have flavored the years of preparation or practice,
The fact is, what we lacked is, a name for our Meal...


-Rco