Poem by Parneshia Jones   •   Photo by Elvira Vila
 
 
 
Two Lovers and a Pot of Collard Greens
 

There’s a simmer in my kitchen.
I crave collards, cornbread—
you.

Savory slow cooking ancestor leaves
mist something southern and sacred.

Your kisses season my skin.
A delicious brew slow-cooks
between the sheets as dusk
flavors the sky with darkness.

Collards steam with cayenne,
ham hocks and whole Spanish onions
dropped in a deep sea pot.
Aromas speak a readiness,
curving a quiet language around the bed.

A ritual dish holds our tribal greens
and voluptuous tomatoes sprinkled
with black pepper.

We feed each other collards and kisses
in bed while pot licker absorbs
the last wet morsels of cornbread.

We surrender, sexual and satisfied.
Our fingers licked slow, tuck themselves
between full bodies feasting
on the night’s heat. 



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