T. De Los Reyes
Salt

My dog has died. I wander into the little kitchen 
light dim and flickering like a bird’s wings or what 
could have been her heartbeat. I reach out and 
hold on to a bottle of salt waiting for the wave 
to pass. I am at the hospital and my grandfather 
is gasping in his final hours. Then I am wading 
through the flooded city once more not knowing 
if I’ll survive the night. I am a child again hiding 
under the table when an argument collapses like
broken glass. I thought, this isn’t right—the five 
spices should be beside the Szechuan peppercorns 
and the green curry beside the lime leaves. I move 
the ponzu next to the togarashi. The plum sauce 
near—oh, oh, what am I to do now. Saffron, sage
and thyme. Tomorrow they will bury her soft body 
underneath a row of hibiscus happily blooming in 
the summer. I ache everywhere. May I please lay
beside her, I asked an empty room. A lifetime ago 
Virginia wrote I can’t fight any longer and then walked 
into the river, her pockets filled with white rocks. 
Meanwhile, rosemary. Meanwhile, black truffle.
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Image by Meruyert Gonullu from Pexels
T. De Los Reyes is a Filipino poet and the author of And Yet Held (Bull City Press). Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Poetry NorthwestDiodeEpiphanyWaxwing, and elsewhere. A 2025 VONA Summer Fellow, she has been nominated for Best of the Net. She is the founder of Read A Little Poetry. Read more of her work at tdelosreyes.com.
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