Savory Versus Sweet
It isn’t the marriage that maps your course,
only the divorce.
One house has become all penance,
the other indulgence.
You struggle to resist
what has grown to feel illicit,
an appetite, threatening obsession,
for delectation.
What grows on trees tastes unfinished,
an imitation of artifice.
What court determined
that sweetness be earned?
Some chef with too much power
once called mixing salt and sugar
a form of barbarism.
His decree, like any fashion,
should have evaporated,
but someone recorded it,
so centuries, a continent, away,
your whole body hesitates
to sweeten, even slightly,
chicken soup or broccoli.
There’s enough complication
in houses, in nations.
His laws are as good as blue.
The offender isn’t you.
2020-10-14 18:41:46
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