A seed into a trunk
and arms for climbing.
A tulip bulb rises
& opens a palm of plush petals.
All galaxies form from dust
and children from touch.
That first night
I made you dinner,
starting with chopped garlic,
fresh ginger, and sliced shallots—
the humble foundation
of almost everything
I love to eat—
I asked you to kiss me,
saying, If this kiss doesn’t work,
nothing else will.
Sarah Dickenson Snyder has three poetry collections, The Human Contract, Notes from a Nomad (nominated for the Massachusetts Book Awards 2018), and With a Polaroid Camera (2019). Recent work has appeared in Rattle, Artemis, The Sewanee Review, and RHINO. sarahdickensonsnyder.com
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