cooking
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The Poetic Palate
Are we the only animal that composes, and makes poetry, eats it, and, in the end, after the joy of having eaten it, rejoices in looking at what is left, still seeing poetry?.
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As if in Disguise
Looking at these, I think of fragile, beautiful, light, angel-like formations. They are in actuality from plants that intended them as protection from being eaten, until humans discovered how wonderful it is to taste things meant to be repugnant offerings to most living animals.
Sila Blume 