white as pepper

The name so sweet
And a bit foreign
I couldn’t resist, though
I live in fear.
Of food, for it hides
Gluten, nuts, eggs, and milk.
I live in a land of rice cakes
Sunflower butter and
Almond milche.
There it was
Innocently charming,
Chicken Andouille.

Then the surprising pain
Of it
Agonizingly wonderful
In its heat.
Suddenly realizing
I’m in over my honky head,
I Google Andouille and white pepper
On my Smartphone
For I hadn’t heard of either.
The list of ingredients fired through me.
Red pepper, black pepper, chicken
green pepper, chicken, chilies
White pepper. I got it.

Insidious, that paradox
white pepper
Invisible yet
excruciatingly  delicious.
I suffer a bit more
Clutching ice water.
Clutching watery eyes.

For that unseen, yet 
Felt to the core.
Melt to the marrow.

Reminded me of his voice.
Through 35 years of haze and fog.
Trickling through the wires.

2 comments

  1. I am frequently confused by myself. The 35 years refers to the time in any relationship. One with the same partner or perhaps with one who was lost and found. Thanks for asking your question. Other readers might wonder what I’m saying, too.

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