#TasteOfMemories
tart pineapple kisses tastebuds teasingly,
leaving a desire for
more, more, more!
in its wake.
##

my heart lies on my family's island,
though I can't claim with certainty
that its heart lies with me.
this nation,
this bookkeeper,
this foundation of my heritage,
is something I love from a wary distance.

I don't wish to bother it.

time stole language and memory
from my grandfather;
he gave it willingly,
seeking to abandon it in favour of
a westernised life and identity.

##
though well-sugared,
the acidic flesh seeks to leave its mark
on the consumer.
it is countered by the rich cream
spread lovingly and most gloriously thick
on the topmost surface.
like the most soothing of balms,
this topping serves to balance
##

once a native child listening to the land,
now an aging old man
displaced from the knowledge that
once formed his entire identity...

my grandfather is the only one of his
many siblings who is forced to mourn
and process this loss.

they maintained connections.
even though time took them
physically from the island,
it remains in their hearts
to this day.
they remembered and passed down
language and knowledge
as a precious family heirloom.

I inherited shame from my grandfather,
instead.

my attempts as...