Prompt #2: Therese

Ode to Girl!

I once met a girl, her name was Falafel,
all she had to do was laugh at my reaction
in a terse, but wonderful giggle
& at once it consumed me how to
  put my mouth on this sweet chick
pea with the olive skin, almost
slightly singed in it's deep color
such a delicious intersection
of femininity and cuisine, so like a man
who after crashing his car stumbles
into a field of African Violets
I forgot what I had come for, mind
turning to the channel where girls
named Vixxy or Violet roll
their tongues over stuff--then
I remembered the advice Lee gave me
on the bus, just outside Be'ersheva:
Joey, she said, Its not ful-AW-full
it's fah-lah-lah-lah-LAH-fehl
and at the expert delivery of this
I received a hint of a smile,
the first little twinge of friendship, or?
Oh, my dear thing, I'll bet you're
all the way to Kathmandu by now
but still I will always call chickpeas
garbanzo beans, doesn't that sound awesome?
Sweet language of exotic names,
sweet mystery of hope, why at
the drop of a hat-- just a small smirk!--
I might jump off the peak of Masada
for you.


So if Chemists can specialize in Food Science, is this Food Art?