PB & Jealousy

That was the best damn sandwich I've had in a while.
Butter on toasted bread,
Peanut butter.
Pretty sure it was apricot jam.
Made with care,
But not by your hands.
I no longer wonder what you're cooking
In your dimly lit kitchen with room for two.
To relinquish my wooden chair
And adopted slippers, a size too small,
Feels less like revolution and more like the inevitable,
As I learn to chew without you
Without chewing alone.