This kitchen isn't big enough for the both of us

Sizzle sounds of something you fry
in the murky deep where you try and try
some Lazy Susan recipe

Flames first lick the night air
while hunger's rumble growls
and we wait until the temperature is right
between us

Now we are close
mincing our words
on the cutting board
of children
home
life

Failure is a food we have tasted
kneaded and risen
baked to a stillborn husk
overripe and crusted

When our kitchen closes in
and the brush does its work
the peel of acrylic on oil
can't hide what's beneath

A hot wind over grass
yields to the fence line anxiety
of what's on the other side
as somebody else's barbeque
spreads the Siren's scent