CHEDDAR CHEESE

By: Wendy Wallace
 

Tepid blood is drizzling down the tip of my left index finger and flowing toward the palm of my hand.  Like my quest for intense passion, I fiercely clutch the handle of a white paring knife and I realize for the first time where my loyalties lay. 

I would never bleed for anyone. 
  
My childhood bed had once been as soft as a cloud of baby powder.  Tonight I felt how the endlessness of disappointment had turned it into a slab of stone.  A man I barely know is sleeping on it now.  Earlier tonight I was drawn to the brashness of his hunter's scent.  His hungry whispers evoked my savage touches.  At first I scraped at the shield that protects his heart as I moaned while fire jetted through my arched back.  Then I dug my fingernails into his chiseled muscles wanting to steal any love his soul may be concealing. I discovered quickly that was nothing there for me to take. 

And now I stand barefoot in my kitchen, a room constructed of stainless-steel logic, and I find solace in the orange rectangle of cheddar cheese standing at attention on the cutting board in front of me.  The chill from the refrigerated brick lingers upward and cools my chin.  Positioned like a spotlight, a full moon gleams through the exposed window pane.  I can see the gentle curves of the solid mass I count on to make me feel better.  

The pieces I had cut before the knife encountered my finger are obediently waiting to please my salivating mouth.  Heavy with comfort and memories, I know the cheddar cheese will bring me the rapture I am yearning for. 

I would never bleed for anyone, but I would for cheddar cheese.

 
Back