Cutting the onions, shredding the potatoes \u2013\u00a0
That is my memory for today.\u00a0
The oil in the pan, the paprika,\u00a0
The low\/medium flame\u00a0
And\u00a0finally\u00a0the cheese melting over it all.\u00a0
We ate it at that little table that could fold up into the wall\u00a0
And she kept complementing me\u00a0
Because she had no\u00a0idea\u00a0I could cook anything.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was a small moment that plays now in my mind \u2013\u00a0
She picked up her empty plate and when she stood up\u00a0
I pulled her body close to mine\u00a0
And I kissed her deeply and fully\u00a0
While the whole apartment smelled like onions\u00a0
And\u00a0so\u00a0did our mingling breath\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And now\u00a0
I scrub and scrub and I launder\u00a0
But the smell of onions remains\u00a0
On my fingers, on my clothes \u2013\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The taste of onions now old and sour in my mouth\u00a0
While pushing every other smell from my nose.\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"