Beyond oven's warmth, a recipe hidden, carried by the breath of time.
Would you dare to witness the oven's trial?
A spoon speaks of its scars, remnants of unyielded dough upon its wooden spine. “I’ve stirred desires and fears alike,” it mutters quietly.
The flour bag dreams of a past without sifted white, buried in the depths of grainy nostalgia.
Palm leaves a whispering tendril: “Crumbs, crumbs everywhere, but none to the boastful jar.”
Ginger snaps and chocolate chuck tales vex the bittersweet solitude of butter.
Where lies the butter's truth?
Trace beyond the mixing bowls, feel their ancient stories.