Ode to Garlic
Humble architect of appetite,
builder of feasts, your essence expanding
in the heat of the frying pan, melting into the broth
or browning in rich olive oil where
you will be added to the onions, zucchini, tomatoes,
and paprika—neither too soon, nor too late,
a ghost wafting from the kitchen,
a whisper on our tongues.
Born in loose soil, growing with the help of the sun,
you hide your uniqueness jealously under layers
of protective skins until my knife shows you
no mercy. Until it cuts you, and I peel, and peel
slowly exposing your shining, naked, white beauty.
You make my mouth water, your intensity
lingers like an innuendo on my fingertips.
You are unrepentant.
You are garlic.
~~~
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