Uncooked

This is when we chopped veggies,

In preparation of something exotic,

Rather than just ordering in,

For a candlelit home date,

Remember how we left,

Everything in the middle,

And started dancing,

To pop songs of the 2000s?

This is when you chopped onions,

In preparation of your Biryani,

And cried like a baby,

Before & after you ate it; too spicy.

This is when you wiped your hands,

Covered with tumeric on your white tee,

And cribbed about it all day,

Asking how dumb you could be?

This is when you left it back,

After you packed everything with you,

And I danced, wearing it on the same songs,

Missing the exotic veggies we never cooked.

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