Mum is a memory in the kitchen: A poem 

A wind of pleasantness wafts in my kitchen  As spices are my vices and my weapons  Donning an apron is like the shade of trees  Its leisureful refuge putting me at ease  There is no curfew on desire in my choices  I listen to my heart’s liberating voices  With the knives and ladles like aContinue reading “Mum is a memory in the kitchen: A poem “