What is your favorite restaurant?
I sit where you served
my dreams on a platter,
your menu fluttered
laden with promises
whispering power,
each dish a chapter
spelling promises of a story
savory and yet vast.
I can still see your faith
powering on my dreams.
You speak to me
through the clink
of glasses; celebrating
my wins. You whisper
your love, your belief
in me when this fiery
food settles on my tongue.
You’re the aroma wafting
around me, so full and rich
that I choke on it.
You’re the drink flowing
down my throat cooling
fires that crave your coolness,
never getting enough of you.
I am living my dreams now
but the fuel, that one dream
I deeply craved for,
is not staring back across
from me with your twinkling
eyes, steamy lips and a
vibe that spreads magic
in my favorite restaurant;
I was the C and you the J,
now the CJs are no more.
It’s no longer my favorite
without you: the candles
are lit but lack light,
the food screams seduction
though it turns me cold,
the music floating around
resembles sweetness but tastes
of bitterness. The patrons laugh
so bright, a sound that’d charm me,
don’t feel right no more, and I,
I am not right without you,
my sweet dream. I was an empty
vessels stitched by dreams yet you
saw the best in me…
Empress of Bookingham 