Dinner

Our regrets and desires are on display. Can you taste them?

Photo from Pexels

In my memory of me,

I am not kind to myself.

in the same manner,

that my mother is not kind to herself.

in the same manner,

that my grandmother is not kind to herself.

We are all kind, mind you,

to others.

masking our feelings into words,

and training our expressions into soft smiles.

we mix our resentment into

spoonfuls of sugar,

adding the juice of a lemon

for tartness.

The lemonade is the right balance

of sweet and sour.

the sugar hits your taste buds first,

before the tanginess of lemon

finds you scrunching your face.

We stir our regrets

and lost dreams.

into a curry,

that balances all our flavours.

a dish you savour,

smacking your lips,

wanting more.

You slurp the bowl

and lick the plate.

your stomach full,

of all that I mean to tell you.

Let it be, let it go,

my mother tells me.

and I do, everyday,

as I cook that delicious meal

you will eat tonight.

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I’ve written after a long time, and it feels good to put this post out. As always Natasha Badhwar knows how to get stories out from us. This came up unexpectedly through a prompt at the Ochre Sky Stories writing circle. Perhaps meeting friends I have written with before gave me the comfort and the space to explore a different voice. I hope you enjoy reading!

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