March 21st, 2009

mist

3 of cups: overflowing

It's odd how quickly strong emotions can shift.
I was happily thinking about answering bio questions for accepted pieces (this is a thrill!), got to the Goblin Fruit bio question about favourite fruit... and found myself shaking, in tears. Because


I can't be homesick--
I'm home. Still,
I miss
   morning chants on tape
   her fresh-churned butter
(them)
   and chiku, earth-sweet,
   long black seeds gleaming
   like inhuman eyes


I don't want to go back to India. I don't. I get sicker there than anywhere. But.
I know my grandparents' apartment's entirely redone now, with nothing left of my memories of summers except the monsoon storm-pressure building. I know they are, completely, gone, and memory is everything to lose and mine is going soft and spotty and, oh, I have not been talking about this but I am so scared for my uncle and I never seem to be there when my family's ill, not that I could help by falling sick where they are, but, but.

So, hi emotional pendulum.

On a complete tangent, I just learned that this fruit, which I associate so strongly with India, may be indigenous to Central America. Unless it's another species in genus Manilkara, though it doesn't seem to be. Huh. All the things I don't know...