Tender - Issue I, Venus Magazine

Kamareyka (Intersection of Caramel and Canary)

by Margaryta Golovchenko I. Mother sings in the tongue of those they call barbarians, hushed but with a thrilling edge.

The teashop to open years from now sleeps lazily, the cups still a design in lead and the fire’s placenta. Our battle cries leave no cracks as we walk by, as it should be—too busy popping like phonetic parcels I have yet to unwrap. Red and white go hand in hand this season, a pack of imaginary wolves an added bonus.

The beginning of spring.

II. The sugar jar tipped over, ratios mixed up.

Too much spiced wine and not enough cherries, apples, the sunlight sort of taste.

I learned there are ways the tongue can be wrong, damaged worse than anatomically perhaps from sucking on too many spoons right where the veins begin. It takes time to learn when to add garnish. Some days I’m still sitting pulling feathers from my back, sticky sweet with syrup of just the right consistency.