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Monday, 25 March 2013

"Cinnamon"







A sliver of cinnamon bark
In my bowl of saffron rice

Oh how that taste and perfume
At once sweet and earthy
Still affects me

I can remember when young
The scent of rolled peelings of
Cinnamon bark
Drying in the tropic sun

I recall as though
From my own past
The words of Michael Ondaatje
And his tale of the
Cinnamon Peelers wife

It is as though I can smell
Her breasts and shoulders
Warm and aromatic
As if my scented hands
Had lovingly caressed her
With the dust
Of that exquisite spice

I seem to remember her
Touching her belly
To MY hands
And saying
“I am the
Cinnamon  Peelers wife
Smell me.”

And I remember how
As so many times before
I really WANTED that woman!

Copyright © Res JFB 25th March 2013