the dough so quickly I dizzy.
I thought everyone ate them. Sweet
fatty lamb and rich pine nuts. Cinnamon
and bitter parsley. Yogurt tang to sweat
the tongue. Your recipes undecipherable
dashes and ribbons across the paper. A dance
in the mouth, even before the mouth.
Silent, confident fingers that crease and twirl.
It can’t be 30 years, Sitti.
How could you go before teaching me
the word for faith, for hope? February 2021:
12.4 million Syrians are food insecure.
80% of the displaced are women and children.
Where is your recipe? Numbers I can
understand. 1 Tablespoon of cinnamon.
4 cups of milk. Sorrow steals my sleep.
I am not immune. I need handfuls
of surety, pastry commune.
Green parsley bruise the only ache.