Deliver

And in the moments that were cracks:
the cuts on skin, the man who left
eggshards in my chest, wasted
coins in the place of feeling 
safe, I swallowed.
Milkshakes, and the belly
of soup beneath bread, shrimp
soft as kissing–I ate and I ate,
as if burrowing down
my gullet towards some
fullness like a god. Behind the counter,
the cashier said “Come back, soon!” and
he wasn’t who I wanted 
to ask me to return. Still 
I craved the solace 
of warm skin I could taste 
on my tongue: golden, and crisp. A promise
filled like a bank account.

And on the way home, the taxi
driver asked me, face lit
from billboards selling fried 
joy, what did I do
to have fun? I studied
engineering, he told me, I don’t like it
here, I work so many hours of the day;
meter running, he halted like a heart,
the car by the roadside, and
knelt in the sand to pray. I knew it was the time
to make requests to God for uncertain
things to be made,
with all the sincerity of ordering
a steak. I watched his temple
touch the ground again and again, adding
to his basket until
his lips filled with sky.
I’m so sorry about that,
he closed the door behind him.
And he drove me to the safety
of a Burger King, where we
both received what we needed
from each other.

Artwork by Myriam Louise Taleb