i see you in the fruit aisles of small-town supermarkets
which i mean entirely in the metaphorical sense
because you aren’t really presently you in the fruit aisles
of every small-town supermarket but i am reminded of you
because i remember that you really liked eating citrus
and citrus fruits just happen to have the same curvature
of your head which i’ll pretend is entirely uniquely yours
and not shared by mostly all the humans i’ve ever met
i taste you when i drink coconut water from the carton
which i mean a little metaphorically and a little literally
because you did drink it a lot and i can remember that
but coconut water isn’t the most commandeering flavour
so it wasn’t so much that your kisses really did taste
coconutty but more that i know you drank it a lot
so i suppose when i drink it i think of you drinking it
and assume i’m tasting the same things you tasted
i smell you when i read the letters you send to me
which i surprisingly mean in the literal face-value sense
because the paper has the same aroma your house did
when i spent weekends eating your mother’s cooking
and you write conversationally so i kinda hear you too
at least the remnants of your voice that slosh in my cranium
against an arsenal of you-facts that are now pretty useless
like your love for citrussy fruits and water found in coconuts
Featured image courtesy of author.
