i am offering you a bowl of rawon

and i expect you to scoop up my right ventricle.

my childhood is the black stew

and i am in every beansprout that you throw away.

in my country we do not say “i love you.”

love is a sin for fathers and the letters ‘LO’

take up too much space for mothers.

love is a countryside dream. this city has no benches

to sleep on once you are bored of me.

despite that we sit with this rawon between us.

“have you eaten yet?”—that is what we say.

                                        why should you ask the obvious?

because we can only care for what we know.

the only way to show intimacy without

vulnerability. to hide your heart and a hammer

for your lover to find in case of emergencies.

“have you eaten yet?”

how are you?

do you miss me?

will you take me?

how do i look?

do you even love me?

will you bury me with a ring?

“that’s too bad. let me cook something.”

bring the spoon to your mouth and watch me unfold.

hurry and eat up now, the rice will get cold.
( Rawon is an Indonesian beef soup originating from East Java. It is best served with rice.)