A dash of cinnamon and a

Grainy pinch of sugar enchants my tastebuds

And the sensation is overwhelming,

Allowing me to ignore my surroundings completely.

As a slice of caramelized apple slides its

Way down my throat I open my eyes slowly and

I feel myself hyperaware of

Every touch, every smell, every noise, every sight.

As I stir the pot, an aroma wafts into my

Taste buds and an emotion solely described as

Wonder takes over my muscles,

Causing my blank stare to light up in

Every way possible.

A beep erupts and the crust is finished,

Pieces breaking off – a sign of perfection.

The caramel drizzles onto the crust and

A drop lands on my skin, only for a minute until

I lick it off, not before it

Sears my skin and reminds me of my mistakes.

The caramel is delicious, perfect.

Not all mistakes are bad ones.

Back in the oven the pan goes,

Only for a minute or two before it is overcooked.

It tastes so much better when it’s imperfect.

When it finishes cooking, we toast:

To the things that give us

Glimpses of happiness

Moments with serenity and peace,

Allowing us to leave our imperfections behind

Even if it’s momentarily

Liquid slides down my throat and

This inevitable event recurs yet again

Between my senses and emotions