Lucy Alexander #20 How I Tasted

I scrubbed the basil from under the

chimes of my nails

my eyes were aubergine

my skin a filmy brie

there was wine on my tongue

sunlight rubbed off the clouds

and went full pelt at my clavicle

I took my father’s arm

the steps we took like so many

to you so that love could strangle all our doubts

and tattoo a promise

like sunburn

that was the day I grew

accustomed to myself not being mine

that the feast

was not for me, but for everyone else

to taste the salt of what we knew

and knew to be good

as sweet as the shoots of herbs

I’d been thumbing into the bowl

as tender at the melting oily

cheese we were sharing

the music was me

I was eaten and

I knew how I tasted

whole.