dark and still,
contrasting the oven’s
distinct-stifling interior.
thin-insulated walls
offer little protection.
I lay frozen, wrapped in layers,
like a store-bought pizza.
Hard, stale and tasteless
needing heat to bring out my flavor.
The freezer’s thermometer
shows the temperature is contrary
to the heat that’s required
to make me, a good pizza.
The freezer, dark and still
makes me the antonym of hot.
My dough, pale and stiff
feels a longing for the oven’s
sweltering humid heat.
I imagine my escape, inside of the oven,
basking in the warmth and dreaming
of my crust, bubbling,
cooking from the inside out.
I imagine the sultry heat,
making me rise, loosening my dough,
bringing color to my contents
and providing the reward of my flavor.
But a pizza does not often visit the oven
when it lives in the freezer
so here, still, I wait.
My home, the freezer, dark and still
makes me hard, stale, tasteless
longing for the heat that’s required
to make me, a good pizza.
Related posts: