A Shared Noodle Across Time.

Photo by Alison Marras on Unsplash

No shared language

no shared city,

or breath.

Only distance,


years between,

and months of

infinite lost moments.

Though we connect daily

through digital means,

sharing separate adventures,

a food porn photo, the words,

‘kapow moo jay,’

‘no pork’ with holy basil,

veggie style

’cause it’s like your meaty favourite

kapow moo (no jay).

Today you say,

‘I miss noodles when i eat with u’

I smile,

and we’re sitting opposite

silently slurping noodles.

Then I know this is a kind of rosetta stone,

unlocking ‘a shared noodle across time’

a hidden code,

stringing a single tasty noodle

between us.

Heartily seasoned with

a thousand greedy kisses,

each single lustful

loving gaze.

Tender touches,

searching hands,

squeezing knees,

twitchy sniff-kisses,

sleepy heads on chests,

sour-sharp kiwi fruit faces,

moans of bliss,

ecstatic pain

of brain freeze

Thai-Tea ice-cream.

A sensory web spun

on a shared noodle soup,

prepared together

with big eyes,

empty bellies,

greedy silence

and sloppy slurps of

sweet, salty, sour.

Season, simmer, stir, serve

a fresh and hearty noodle soup.

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