Edison | Sandy Shen

I. Meringue

we used to scamper up the hill

just to taste

soft sugar crystals

melt onto our tongues.

i miss those chocolate chips,

those oak doors that opened

only for us.

strawberry shortcake,

brown butter madeleines,

pillowy red bean buns

yes please

but it seems

i’ve fallen out of love

with my egg custard tarts

that always used to whisper

home

maybe too sweet

maybe too moist

maybe too frail.

but they lost

the only thing that mattered

i can’t taste Edison anymore

i tried playing waitress once

balanced a bowl of rice

on my dora the explorer books

but it plunked to the floor

a barrage of shards and shrieks

i ran upstairs to hide

i can’t play waitress anymore

it’s not worth the rice