| Carissa
DiGiovanni
In the Exotic
aisle
(where Midwesterners
go on food safaris)
you sight me, feeling penne
packages for firmness.
You
approach with light steps.
Brush your fingers against
my sleeve and point at the shelf
above, asking, "What are
those, dusty peas?"
I
say, "Cardamom. It
comes in pods."
You
say, "You know, your shirt
feels like paper." ....
|