I.
With heavy, hag-crusted apron
I wait for it to rise
Past circling, stirring motion
The meal, the embryo, the red of the moon
Combine, they dance
Swirling and mixing
.
I wait
Whilst frankincense-laced vapours
Hang, wispy and snakish
As guttoral, throated vocalizations
And visions of strange beings
Ambulate on quartz lined stage
I wonder
As I wait
If they
Are me
.
The wheated, bubbling creature
Waits
As I wait
Wonders
As I wonder
Under thick cover
Amidst heat shimmers
Of Awaswas’ mountain
.
With heavy, hag-crusted apron
I wait
While it waits
For the Cakes of Light
To rise
.
II.
Naked tips dipping
Into sticky, porous, amoebic
Mass
Stringlets stretching
As I pull apart its body
As I drop its flesh
Into oiled Abramelin chambers
.
The heat is rising
And I wait
While it waits
As preliminary aromas
Its possible hope for transformation
And Tuvan melodies
Twirl in air
.
This
Is such
An old
Ritual
.
III.
A crisped shell
A moist center
Cradled in hand
Hot, piping steam
Back and forth to save them
Back and forth to cool them
Back and forth to infuse them
I lift
This alchemized creature
To my mouth
And break through
Teeth piercing into grainy innards
And breathe
Tastes swirl
Sweet, buttery, salty
And vague notes
Of sorcery within
.
I chew
All flavors transfigure
Into pregnant mass
A eucharist of sorts
I take myself
Into myself
And begin to hum
Feeling this ritual
Flowing, pulsing, re-membering
Swallowing
Feeling this ritual
In hand
Like the sinewy, weathered of grandmothers
Feeling this ritual
Of bread
In
Blood
In bread
.
Thanks for reading! Please join me next week as I re-create the food memory, “Shrimp.”
**If you’d like to learn more about the Food Memories book I am referencing for these posts, you can support a small bookstore by purchasing it here:
https://www.ebookwoman.com/book/9781689839075
or by searching for Food Memories by Reagan Lakins on any major book selling website.
Letting Go 