We never found it crazed this blessing
of garlic between us this need to dip flowers
of broccoli, ruffled radicchio into hot baths
of cream, fleshy smashed garlic, musky
anchovies. Never odd
to let this nectar drip and soften
sliced warm baguette soak
its yeast that grew in us. We weren’t insane
loving the fullness in our mouths, the smell
on our clothes, this richness pulsing
through our blood bleeding
to the surface of us. Garlic
was the sticky white magic
that held us together
on the coldest February nights.
Enticing poem and a new recipe! Thanks.
You’ve got it! How it fills in the spaces of what could be desired! Great poem!
A paen to garlic! Not many writers could make it so tantalizing. Makes me want to get out my garlic baker and get at it.
Makes me want to get at it, without it…
Thanks for all the nice comments!
805169 544453Hey there! Good stuff, please keep us posted when you post once more something like that! 599068
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