when you say leaving
poetical diversions in the kitchen
weaving through canebrakes
chasing the scent of our sweat
bodies grounded in discovery wondering when
did we surrender
when did we dance in fields
was it long ago are we undone now never say that
our natural language —love
little wild strawberries
sweet as a kisscatch a glimpse
how the body meets the plant
the tallgrass tommorrow saw
you wrote the beautiful songs for me
we covered ourselves
Egana Catte
red earth black soil
the heat of this memory
spices are defense against forgetting
brain bolts overgrown by the naked eye
you are green peppercorn on the vine
cayenne’s clean fire
soothing clove clever and dangerous one breath
of your aroma caught between my teeth rushes past my daily dosing as close as a tear the fragrant release
of a lie
I will love you til I die
I am time traveling
oils are at their richest
before the blossom
young in love we cooked outside
I see you in the birds and trees now
spices you gathered from starlight simmer
cumin cardamon shifting appetites
hungry again and again
reactive chemistry your tongue a knife
sting me crush me
we go wandering a world burgundy red
trip by moonlight
drive on past the ones who hate us
take me to the graveyard to smoke a cigarette
write our epitaphs in honeysuckle nectar
fetch me jasmine from the paupers field
all of this rushing around in the kitchen I am dizzy at the assault on my senses
you are
paprika smoky sweetness
deep warm ginger dried
the delight of numbness and heat together
bruise my hip
climbing resting still
make me want turmeric sunshine
bitter surprise
a tiny husk of smoke
you with your angel face
make me a cold drink
mint does not lower my temperature
you
muddle your way into
mentholated mornings
shade after early light
wander the garden path
earthy and deep
worn the neurons of these unkind days
our bare feet still follow chemistry
you and me
fennel and star anise
soft candy whisper between old nights
my genetic makeup predisposed to those of us who go
seeded by birds
rebirth means
love
swallows
us whole


Wassshtay tutucher. So beauty way
What stayed with me is how memory moves through taste, scent, heat, and touch until love becomes something the body continues to recognize. The spices are not only images here; they seem to keep what is gone from disappearing completely. By the end, leaving no longer feels like an ending, but another form of being carried forward.