…(Q-k5=}M SmIles

Those edges become M:

No longer surly m

Spoke of I as caricatures
In a mad Irish tea party I
Look at M

And I am spelled
By that cooking charm

That spent door
Of “I no longer love” You
For “You pushed” Me away I

Felt that sadness of being closed

To “I love you” brought

Me to the four lines of M
From The Waste Land I.
The Burial of the Dead I

Stirring now as I cook:

Well done M
Will become more charming
Lover in love with regret (secretly

Wishing there will be) that remorse
From not being able to love
Yet again what was once loved I

In irreverence, that virtue, M:
Enamored of the beautiful
Language farthest from the real makes us

Forget this carriage was a pumpkin
And the feast you eat now, that savor, is
Remembered onions of a cooked heart.