Sugar

he calls me sugar
when i bendover to
grab the whipped cream

whimpering at little kitchen burns he should
tell me to man up
but
“y’ok, sugar?”
makes me feel like quite the
little lady

sweaty days in black on black
white biscuit dough
smearing highlights onto his cheeks
like he’s always underwater

filling milkshakes in spirals of
crinkly cream
only licking my fingers
if he’s watching.

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