Mama’s ashes smelled strange
A mixture between the memory of her perfume
And sulfur
Perhaps

I placed my hand in the bowl
Full of her burnt corpse
Gripping it lightly
Playing with it like sand

The batter was almost finished
Nearly every ingredient in
Except for
One

At first I sprinkled bits of her
Mixing the batter with each new handful
Thinking back on times she and I
Cooked things together in this exact kitchen

She really was a lovely woman
With deep black hair
Crimson lips
And a smile that filled the air

If only Daddy hadn’t beat her
Hadn’t driven her mad
Loved her like he should have
Instead of leading her to suicide

After mixing in a good portion of her remains
I baked the cake, returned the urn
And sat and watched TV with Daddy
It was his birthday, after all