by Miss Misfit

Sunday Mornings

Butter

The scent

Rich

Fills the air

A background to a melody of sugar

The subtle crisp of the pandesal in the oven

Making my mouth water

Old photos

Worn cushions, the sofa creaking under my weight

The whir of a VHS player

Gentle humming

This is safety

I love you, Grandma

Thank you

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