she always smelled like basil, her dark apartment was full of old newspapers she never read and overflowing candy dishes...forced myself to ignore the roaches that scuttled everywhere, but she taught me to seduce with italian food and kindness.
I'm a cook. And I write, sometimes about food, mostly poems. I make stuff. I get lost. I'm worried about vanishing bees, melting icecaps, the decrease of civility in the world, seedless watermelons, and whether there will be enough time for me to get it all right.
No comments:
Post a Comment