To begin the recipe
Item one: two hands
With long nails
Worn and red and torn and bled
Item two: two lips
Sweet enough
Item three: two grey eyes
With borrowed lids
Item four: my hair
One item but thousands really
I should count them individually
But I won't.
Item five: two armpits
With a forest of hair
Item six: a heart
Unlucky for some
Item seven: a voice
Hello? Can you hear me?
Raw until the last
Item eight: two legs
Pacing its walls
Over and over and over and over
They understand me.
Item nine: two arms
That wish they hadn't broken so many eggs
in my time.
Broken eggs make a burnt cake.
Item ten: an alien object
Between my legs
Item eleven: an empty stomach
With a solution
For the future
And
Item twelve: my mind
Weathering a storm
Item after item after item after item until:
I wait
I eat
I eat the cake.
His' voice
She cracks a single egg, slowly
She cracks another egg, quickly
She misses the bowl
She adds far too much flour and sugar
She doesn't care
She whisks, furiously
She drops in a packet of chocolate flavouring
She expects me to pick it up
She doesn't know I won't
She acquires a baking tray
She pours the thick mixture unevenly
She doesn't care
She doesn't intend to eat it
She intends for me to eat it
She doesn't know I won't
She puts everything into the oven
She sets a timer
She waits
She waits for me
She hears the timer
She withdraws the burnt cake
She decorates it in chocolate buttercream
frosting
She finishes the cake
She spies my hunger
She eats me in one bite