
Only thought the smell of jasmine tasted like smoke.
“Silence” and “Contending with ‘You’ After You Are Gone”
These writers elegize and scrutinize the liminal spaces between taste, smell, and image, between individual truth and collective meaning-making
I needed the concoctions F poured to quiet the things that grated and grew wilder each year—the confusion of being part white in an Arab country, part Arab in an expat world.
I was struck by the world I tasted—woods, Baja California granite, the winter of the grapes’ growth.
I have done it again, crossing / outside the frame into / some brave, new world
Stars, trees, lasers, lights, everything locking into nothing, everything together yet apart.
“Silence” and “Contending with ‘You’ After You Are Gone”
I have done it again, crossing / outside the frame into / some brave, new world
These writers elegize and scrutinize the liminal spaces between taste, smell, and image, between individual truth and collective meaning-making
I needed the concoctions F poured to quiet the things that grated and grew wilder each year—the confusion of being part white in an Arab country, part Arab in an expat world.
I was struck by the world I tasted—woods, Baja California granite, the winter of the grapes’ growth.
Stars, trees, lasers, lights, everything locking into nothing, everything together yet apart.