Watching Pretty In Pink in his claimed
green plaid chair in front of the dusty Zenith,
after playing in my plastic kitchen-
stained sink and burner stickers peeling off
where I pretended.
Although sometimes I did try
at mom's stove,
blue flames shooting up through the holes
underneath turquoise metal.
Pride in browning the sides of the bread just right
for him to drench in sticky maple.
Whoever he was to me- it was really you,
as I sit on my couch
hoping for the John Hughes ending.