Elizabeth Gomez: Stir Fry

Slight twist of the face,
Deep heavy sigh,
Hands resting on hips.

What can I do?
You don’t have to do anything.
I can’t keep doing this.
You don’t have to.

Sunlight washes his hair.
Lips slightly parted.
Words missing.

This is the last time.
I know, you’ve said it before.
Do you know what you’re doing?
I don’t.

Arms wrap around waist,
Chest touching back,
Hand grabs spoon.

You have to stir it gently.
I am.
You have to keep it moving.
I thought I was.

Breath behind ear.
Heave in his chest
Sizzle jumping from pan.

Do you need me?
No, go.
I can stay.
I’ll be ok.

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