Layers

Here is my mask
Over my mask is your mask of me
These layers; onions, leeks, garlic
Pungent, thick, and flavorful
Covering things like cinnamon, juniper, and cream
You didn’t order it,
but here I am.
This queer soup, the chefs’ special
Tentatively tasting, finding so many flavors
textures, fragrances.

Here I shall remove both masks.
These ingredients came from somewhere.
They are a part of a larger whole.
Behind the fragments, pieces, you taste
landscapes, peoples, dirt’s and clays.
These are wonders which extend beyond
the palette, the foreground.
There are tools handed down
from grandmother to grandson.
There are wild, untamed creatures
whom roam from field to forest.
Blood, Beaks, Feathers, Fur and Flesh.
Each animal, plant, and mineral
Sacred.

But all you will taste is onions and garlic.