"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