Recipe for the Morning After
Nechama Moring
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sexual content
There is perhaps nothing as sweet as waking up, still breathless from the night before, to a lover’s sleeping flesh pressed against yours. Perhaps your legs, draped over his, still quiver slightly as you lay together against the silk of your sheets. There’s a slight chill in the air, and you feel a tingle deep in your abdomen, where your eggs sit curled tight, glistening like so many kernels of corn. You want to stay next to your lover, a tangle of legs and silk, but breakfast calls. It’s time to cook, and eat. You will need your strength for the upcoming winter, and for your eggs. Prepare this recipe quietly, while holding the memory of last night in your limbs.
Ingredients
Flavorings as desired, no more than ¼ cup total when combined together as one
½ cup water, hot as desire
8 strands candy floss, soft as silk
1 cup syrup, sweet as your lover’s body melting under you
The entire leaf where you lay
Instructions
Assemble your cold press thoughtfully, as attentively as your lover caressed you under the moonlight. Make sure all the pieces glide smoothly, and nothing sticks.
Next, gather your flavorings. Just as you were created with all your eggs already inside you, you were also given unique and idiosyncratic tastes that make you different from all the other creatures cooking breakfast for a lover this misty fall morning. Some flavors to consider: juniper leaves, blackberries, dewdrops, the curled tip of a fern, pine needles, a smooth stone from the creek. Be creative!
Lay your flavorings on the bottom of the cold press, gently. Stir five times, decisively, with all your legs.
Slowly pour the hot water into the cold press. You will see the flavor start to rise, and there will be steam that smells of sunrise. This will make you hungry, but it is vital that you wait. The best is yet to come.
While the water absorbs the flavorings, attend to your lover. Begin to unwrap the silk that binds him, being careful not to break the strands. Add the silk to the mixture and stir twice more.
Your lover, once unwrapped, may have already started to liquify. This is normal, and a sign that your digestive juices are strong. Add both your lover’s liquifying body and the leaf he’s still laying on to the cold press. This should be around one cup of syrupy lifeblood, but do not worry if it is more or less. His head is what will nourish you and your eggs this winter.
It is now time to harvest the head. Do so reverently, ravenously, using your mouthparts as tools. Place the head in the center of the cold press, and count to eight generations.
With all the ingredients combined, push down on the cold press’s handle, hard, as hard as larvae chewing through their egg coatings. You are the future. You must survive the winter.
About the author:
Nechama Moring (she/they) is a queer disabled anarchist, a writer and a reproductive justice activist who grew up befriending bugs. They live in Boston with their pit bull, Samira. Samira’s favorite food is meatballs and caramel swirl ice cream.
