Lift. Prop. Push. Slice.
The knife’s edge cuts through the fibers
A clean cut, juices flowing.
The next one, right adjacent to the first
Methodical, meditative, musical
Pieces adorn the chopping board, bathed in their own
Collect. Scoop. Immerse.
Salt and spice intermingling to create a new home
A watery cocoon for my piecemeal memories
I drop the pieces one by one, saying goodbye
Like a prayer sent out on the winds, to who knows where
Memories made of love and sugar and something warm. Once.
Memories soaked in promises and forevers and salt. Yes, salt.
Memories with backbones so upright, they broke
When you pushed just a little. Snapped clean into two. Irreversible.
The pieces swim around in the liquid, turning murkier as they pickle
Jars upon jars upon jars upon jars…
I have a lot of forgetting to do.
~ as ~