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Anna Ruiz

Deftly, the onions remove their skins
one word at a time
understanding the promise of fire
and how they will curl and sizzle
and sometimes burn beyond recognition,
but oh, the smell of frying onions,
always recognizable,
always welcoming as the first ingredient,
added to just about anything,
always palatable and edible.

Truth smells like that.

Unless it stings your eyes
or doesn’t agree with your stomach,
or you worry about bad breath.
Then you pass on the onions.

Copyright © 2006 by Anna Ruiz

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