love’s perfect sandwich

everyone knows that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single slice
of plastic-wrapped cheese but did you know to take extra care ensuring that

each long, slow, deliberate spread of mayo from the spatula of your adoration,
each enrapt swipe of that creamy dressing be spackled only to the cheese and

the ham slices; that the pickles & tomato be kept in isolation, so that three days
from now when you open up the third sandwich in the crowded dark of your east-

bound bus, the bread won’t be all soggy-spongy juiced-up, it will be as soft and
fresh as the first sandwich you ate on the first day of this, your solitary

there are no pits or stones in my farm-fresh, butchered brown-bag, no grapes of
wrath inside for leaving me alone for untold weeks; I packed only the most tender-

skinned green globes, washed & chilled & zip-locked securely, practically bursting
at their seams with seasonal seedless sweetness; how beautifully they catch the light.

everyone knows that the ham sandwich of perfect, delectable desire has all the visible
fat trimmed away but did you know that even the most telegenic of local news anchor-

type celebrities are more often than not replaced when visible fat remains untrimmed;
or at the very least sent to their local jenny craig’s to become the svelte talking heads

of our most voyeuristic dreams; and so right then & there I decide to leave
just a little beautiful, & very visible fat in the lunchbox sandwich of my

miracle-whip’t, grip’t-tight & zip-locked securely love for you, my hungry heart baby.