Strawberry Invocations |
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i. |
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Life is short, eat dessert first -- |
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at dawnlight, sooner. |
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Strawberry between your teeth, |
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held, swallowed deliberately, |
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the way you circled |
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your tongue soft and definite, |
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exploring one nipple, |
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tasting my body, skin, |
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strawberries, the blush |
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and sugar |
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of each on each. |
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ii. |
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Find strawberries. Halve, |
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then quarter carefully, |
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layer them in sugar. |
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The juice will firm to syrup. |
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And now trust me on |
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a teaspoon-dash of balsamic |
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and blackpepper dusting. |
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Fold well together for |
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a recipe |
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of balance. |
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Spice-flecks nip gently |
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at the berry edges, |
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softening the geometric |
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syntheses of fruit and sweet, |
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while rich amber curls |
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into red and white angles, |
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maturing in the bowl |
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to slow golden pink -- like |
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fresh familiar kisses -- |
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ripened, new, complex. |
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iii. |
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I returned inspired |
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to eat strawberries -- |
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on my walk, the sky |
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blossomed pink (a pink |
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that sang like fruit), |
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burned out ashy |
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as sun kindled |
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treeline and slid down |
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to the other side of the world. |
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So I sliced small berries |
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into halves, found |
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pale triangles and |
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traced white ribs |
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from heart to edge. |
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Each pink recalled |
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dusky sky and skin, |
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the dawnlight when we first |
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ate strawberries together |
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on the other side of the world. |
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Content © copyright 2002 by Alecia Marie Magnifico. All rights reserved.