It's still winter—the sun stays
distant. We fix masks
of manuka honey on our faces,
lather goats' milk soap
and wash off the film. I like
simple dishes like long-
simmered radish, egg
flowers swirling in broth.
Craving means you want
what you know you don't
or can't have. At night, the cold
presses against the sides of
the house. You tuck yourself
in, gently, among the shadows.


