making soup
all the hope i've got goes in the pot.
stir it around, the flick of the wrist
mixes the scent of despair out through
the air, riding clouds of steam.
bubble. bubble.
the flame ignites the fading moon,
twisting around the ankles of fate,
pulling it into the concoction...
mashed against the edges with a spoon,
squeezing out all the juices of life,
steeped in longing.
served with desire.
my mom was here for part of the weekend and we had a great time.
last night we had a fabulous dinner and margarita at one of my favorite restaurants here in dallas, mi cocina. today we spent the day looking for treasures at garage sales and this amazing antique store. to top it all off, we had a lunch that knocked our socks off at babe's chicken dinner house. yes, it is as southern and divine as it sounds.
i took the above photo of a shelf in my kitchen. to the left are some beautiful vintage print aprons my mom made for me. i have the best mom in the world!
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