handwritten prices
on the grocery list
categorizing ingredients,
a spouse’s scrupulous pen
(cocoa: $2.76
chocolate chips: $2.38
it goes on)

several summer nightmares,
a bitter blog post,
and the hollowness
that can only come
with the absence of words

their bright faces
and innocent remarks,
the commentary carried
down the corridor,
begging for more

the bland baked cakes
from someone’s mix
hand in hand with
Friday’s sacred sweet desire

all the times
that can’t be added up
with calculators
of when they made a day,
saved a life,
or satisfied a fix

the small hands
that crack the eggs,
the small voice
that recites the recipe,
reminding me
once again
that from first bite
to last,
i am giving a taste
of chocolate
with an immeasurable price.