Of all the thoughts, why these ones again?

Potatoes sizzle, crispy golden in the pan,

The smell is wholesome, comforting,

And--

The thought hits me like a ton of bricks:

Why

Am

I

Not

Cooking

For

You?

Then everything starts to burn and stick

Well!

My cooking isn't good enough to give you

...I think:

Neither

Am

I