Mar/Apr 2022 • Vol. XLIV No. 2 Poetry |

kitchen

dressed pearls of garlic in petaline whisper, sunlight in triangles by the cutting board as if set to be thinly portioned and split at the table. snapper drowsy in its dark broth, star anise and cloves and soy in tune to fire rhythms. gentle coax of perfume. tomatoes in the iron pan, cinnabarian oil-ripe, blister of a flush here and there seared by greening chive blossom. the window, alight, brags the late-august wind. ruffles the room, the thin fragrance of sesame, powdered in practiced stone. the kitchen breathes on its own, as those who know know—it takes a lifetime to make a meal. cucumbers in a nest of pickled seaweed, millet boiling for the ache of cold water, white flesh of a bird pulsing morse in salt. the air thickens with pouring. in her hand chili staggered between two fingertips, digs knuckle-deep into a bag of rice, rolling rough marbles of peppercorn, weaving threads the whistling steam. running sweet grass under the tap she was reminding herself to buy ginger. pinne

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strategy

By Xiao Yue Shan

dressed pearls of garlic in petaline whisper, sunlight in triangles by the cutting board as if set to be thinly portioned and split at the table. snapper drowsy in its […]

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