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HAITIAN FOOD

You are my beef patty
I flip you over
Wrap my arms around you
Take a bite of your meat
It takes time to speak in my belly
Yesterday
Did you know how much I wanted to grab your plantain?
But with your parents seated at our table
We had to be discreet
Today we are all alone
You look me over with your black mushroom eyes
Spicing my face with your cheeks
My bean-shaped nipples swelling
I rub the rice of your hair with olive oil fingertips
Feels soft and flaky like starch
You say you want to take me to Le Lambi
Where you once crowned my body with seashells
And dewdrops from the naked moon
Sweetening my coconuts with rum
You want my pelvic bones to quake
To the beat of your drum
All through the night
To leave me drunk from your passionate testament
To become your dirty tigress
Shaking loose the wild fanm in me
I do like it when you pound your mortar
To my pestle
When you lick sticky rum off the center of my palm
Sing to me our Haitian National anthem
Mourir est beau, mourir est beau
To die with passion is a fine thing
Using your voodoo spell
Unfurl your serpent to my rainbow
Rake your tongue on my sea salt neck, shoulders and spine
I am your Caribbean dish for life
My sweet fish loves the taste of your spice

© 2006 by Cathy Delaleu

Excerpt from book Wrapping Thoughts Beneath Emotive Rain