when I am far from my mother, ginger becomes her.
hugs me with her aroma, tea in the morning, soup in the evening.
purely good. a love that is lingering. tender and soft.
I peel with the back of the spoon, Joris said, I love how you do that,
it is so delicate, but what he didn't know, what even you didn't know,
was the peeling is an act of love, the cutting, the imbuing, the drinking,
even when it doesn't lead to drinking, the ritual of doing something that might
make you better.
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