Food U Desire

Perching at the corner window seat,

headphones connect me with you.

We are sitting together;

when I was fourteen, I sat at the table across from you—

my year with glasses and braces.

I remember the taste of bubblegum,

the one I wasn’t supposed to chew, but you handed me a piece. And, well,

I like sharing with you.

By the time I’m sixteen, we perch in the sunlight,

taking turns crossing to the red awning.

We buy Tic Tacs at the deli and forties across the street.

Sometimes a loosie, but always in threes. One for me, one for you, and 

one to share.

The Italian men line around this red awning;

they have been there since I was three.

Now, I am twenty.

I walk past the red awning up to Food U Desire;

I walk with both headphones in my ears; a cigarette propped between my lips,

smoke drifts in and out of my eyesight.

I still meet you here. You are holding bubblegum and three forties. My pack is half empty, light blue spirits shuffling loosely around my bag. And the golden light. It reaches through

the deli glass, through the years. I like to share the light with you.

---

TASHA DEEN finds herself rooted to Brooklyn, set in other places. She is a recent graduate of Middlebury College, where she studied English Literature. Her work has appeared in Blackbird Literary & Arts Journal, Middlebury Geographic Magazine, and Cornell's Rainy Day Literary Magazine.

Return to Vol. 43.2