Dear, Smoky Salmon

You are
Thin, sliced, pink flesh**
melting beneath me,
It's love or hate,
with you, smoky salmon-
There are no 'in-between'
feelings, only
inspiration tinged
by my salt, the briny juice
I stew in, trapped inside a jar,
crammed among my people,
waiting to break free, to live
with you, atop a plate
sprinkled over your body
again, and again,
in yet another random cafe,
another dark booth,
how long we've been together,
I've lost count, we are so
perfect for each other,
oh the bat mitzvahs,
oh the weddings,
oh the shiva houses,
it's the way we go together
like salt, and pepper,
day, and night,
jews, and bagels,
that makes me know
we will always be
together, lox, and caper,
you pink, me green,
our colors as perfect
as our taste---
some call you
smoked salmon,
others roll you into sushi,
or label you "sashimi,"
yet in the dark of night
I breathe your name:
lox, lox, baby.

Love,
Your Loyal Caper(s)
** appeared on the caffe De Luca Facebook page, but I am sick of freaking out about the Olympics, and city politics here on GONE, so figured i need some lighter fare, like lox