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a tongue is only a portal to the world

by Anna Lin

The guest is always an incarnation of God. 

— Chef’s Table


The dinner table is always one. There are no backs

turned to                 each other. 

In the           center                       lies the 

spirit of       the night. 

Colors have never been so true.          The belief of 

creation with love, the fulfilled   expectation of the 

first eye-widening swallow,           moves mouths. 

Hands reach





to scoop, to take, to enjoy. In consumption  comes

an understanding.


From the far   away                 kitchen 

the chef says   come come again

                       come seek with your companions

                       that joy linking mouth and heart.

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