Love and dark greens

A lyric essay.

When I am surprised by my own hunger, I slice dark greens. The sun is not yet awake and the kitchen tiles are cold on my bare feet. Love is sated by attention but the chili peppers have grown white mold. I watch peanut paste succumb to hot water, thick and handled.

Last night I came across an old woman selling these dark greens, bundled larger than what…