i left it in the microwave too long or something

Our relationship did not start right away.
We had to wait until the oven reached 375 degrees
Before we could put our batter in,
And feel confident that in nine to eleven minutes,
Solid cookies would come out.

Not every aspect of our relationship is appetizing
When standing on its own.
I wouldn’t choose to eat two and a fourth cups of flour,
But the soft, white powder binds us together.
I didn’t mean to meet you when I did,
In a time when we had not yet bloomed,
But we would not have combined any other way.

As the ingredients lay flat,
Our emotions did not fester
Until we were hit with a teaspoon of baking soda.
The chemicals took hold,
And let love expand the batter.
As we were succumb with warmth,
Warm feeling,
Our relationship grew.
We came to life.  

You are so incorporated into my life,
That I take you for granted sometimes.
Like a pinch of salt,
I would still be me without you,
But something would be missing.
You bring out the best in me.

Our love is sweet, like three-fourths cups of sugar,
But our circumstance can be hard at times,
Like three-fourth cups of brown sugar
Left out for too long.
But with practice we have resolved
That with a quick spin in the microwave,
We fall back into each other,
Soft and warm and where we belong.

Relationships take patience,
Like when a cup of butter is too hard to mix.
You might want to melt it,
But in the end the product won’t taste the same.
The perfect consistency
Is worth waiting for.

Distance has made us fragile, like two eggs.
The question is not when we will crack,
But how? At some point we will need to spill our guts
To complete a masterpiece,
But will we crumble with grace?
Or will our shell fall inside the yolk,
And contaminate the mix?

Our love was created naturally, like a teaspoon of vanilla extract.
Imitations exist; the flavors could be contrived,
But most would find that when you spend the extra money,
You will never go back to a substance created in a lab.
Once I tasted the real thing,
Never again could I settle.

When you mix the wet with the dry,
The good with the bad,
The delicious with the not,
You make the best cookie there is.

When you and I are together
I feel like I have come home.
The air is sweet,
The cookies are warm,
And with the hard work done,
My toils just melt in my mouth.

—  My Love for You is Measured in Cups and Tablesppons (e.d.d)