A Child’s Love

Children peak around corners,

knowing the sting of momma’s belt

but desiring the cookies on the counter.

To be caught is a risk that result in lash and explosion

but to catch that which is desired is an unspeakable victory.

Lips salivate at the flavor of those cookies.

It is enough as if they haven’t had them before.

That is precisely the problem.

They know cookies.

They say.

The scents fill Johnnie’s nose and he recalls the last

time he had cookies.

Snickerdoodle he thinks.

Yes, doused with brown sugar. Just a bit darker

than the flour momma had rolled them in.

Patience was never his thing.

Sho’nuff, soon as they came out the oven and momma

had run to the store, Johnnie ran too.

He ran to that kitchen, with a singular mind

Scooped himself up 7 cookies

soft and gooey cookies

and threw them straight into his mouth

His tongue recognized their presence

and responded with boils and scars

the pain was real

Johnnie didn’t care.

He swallowed them piping hot.

He knew those cookies were good

and he had to have them.

This time a’round he smelled the chocolate

melting in to the breaded base

he also could detect a hint of peanut butter

he’d never had those two together.

Must be delicious he thought.

The smell was intoxicating.

He had watched momma bake them from afar

for what seemed like days.

He wanted some.

He knew that had to be good.

They looked good.

He desired them.

He had to have them.

So peaked around that corner,

remember momma’s warning,

he knew he was “cruisin for a bruisin”

but he had to have them.

His secret delight.

Piping hot.

Not time for the cool.

He was fearless.


He loved those cookies.

If only he knew,

the cookies had consciousness of

the cavities he’d have by 15.

The diabetes by 24.

The weight problems.

They’d be gone.

Long gone.

But there

somewhere within the ethers of his body

leaving tattoos of desire

and joy

long since departed.

Johnnie was fearless.

He lived, he thinks.

But shit.

That’s the way love goes.

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