I am a vege-pescetarian,
meaning I claim to be a vegetarian
while picking off tiny pieces of the
curry chicken you left on the stove.
A boiling pot of your afrocentric love.
Oxtail, brown stew chicken, fried fish.
Liquefied mustard yellow,
the cooking oil stained on my fingertips.
little volcanoes bubble, subside.
Releasing a stream of aromatic spices.
Whose hands cup my face.
Curry, scotch bonnet peppers,
Warm smoke swaying,
dancing into the air.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.