An open letter to pasta : the gate-keeper of my adulthood
An open letter to pasta : the gate-keeper of my adulthood kryptonite stories
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cuculater
cuculater My not-so- secret pastime :)
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
Pasta , I cook you. I season you . Yet , you leave me quickly. Pasta, you are the gate-keeper of my adulthood .The first dish , I cooked on my own .

An open letter to pasta : the gate-keeper of my adulthood

Pasta , I cook you. I season you. Yet , you leave me quickly. In 10 minutes , you dissapear.

Pasta, you are the gate-keeper of my adulthood . The first dish , I cooked on my own .

In you, I learned patience . For I know, I have burned you. For I know, I have oiled you. For I know, I have rendered you soggy.

Yet, I always ate you.

I ate you, when I did not eat much at all. I ate you , even when food was the enemy .

Your carb-infested insides are "unsafe". Yet, you are the only food I ate.

I manipulated you , I made you safe. I shrunk you to the size of a tea-cup . I lathered you in emptiness, once a day.

Now , I mix you . My once scrawny arms mix you, with your other friends: meat, chicken , bacon, and cheese.

Do you miss me ? For, sometimes I miss you .

You call my name softly hissing, as I try on clothes. As I cook. As I drive . As I tan . As I shower. And mostly before I eat.

Pasta, you are my enemy, savior, and diary wrapped in a see-through package.

Pasta, you are my kryptonite. Monogamy is not as easy as it seems.

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