Col Morada

What it’s like when I hand her the
dark green with red buckshot
heavy, gourd-like, brutalist
object with one fool’s ear flapping
and she takes the machete
a wide grin from the apex of all
the vegetables, and then she is
holding the two halves -
.............................................Cuál quiere?
and I point
with a stake in my heart for the
one left behind, purple and
white furrows radiating
from a gasping stem what I want
for them is to be together,
again, but am aware that once
severed, we will not return to our original

it was much more beautiful
than I had thought and better
than I deserved, only it wasn’t
what I once glimpsed, and lost.

---
"Col Morada" - Red Cabbage
words: Rose Hunter, Mexico (blog)

note: Rose Hunter is the editor of the new poetry journal YB (guidelines), submissions are open.