Flavour

Salted soil
Salted memories
Take a bite before they clear.
Or let them be
The way they are
And hope they'll disappear.
Pepper them
With dust and grime
Till there is nothing left to grow.
Console them
They're in a better place
Than they were about to go.

Bitter gourds,
Bitter words,
Take a bite before they ripe.
Or try to fight them
In your plate
Hope there's enough to wipe.
Sweeten it
With flavouring,
Till you can't make out.
Eat it with
A savouring.
The taste you cannot doubt.

Clanging dishes
Clanging spaces
Jarring understanding.
Cleaned wishes
Cleaned faces
Illusions of standing.
Going forward- going backwards-
Tell me I'm right- Or left-
So many noises-
So many flavours-

Somebody please call the manager.