The petals of the Lotus plant are sweet
like Creten honey or a pink rose of frosting.
And it is true, we who suck its bloom
have no desire for home.
But to say we forget-
you are mistaken.
Not everybody has a mother or a wife
who weaves her frustrations
into elaborate tapestries, waiting
for a husband away at war.
Some mothers were hungry,
and welcomed the men
with glittering pinkie rings and piggy eyes.
They poured the wine and looked away
while those men fat fingers groped
for the nightly feast of tender meat.
The sweetness of the plant, my friend, merely dissolves
the bitter taste of home from our tongues.
Andrea Boll is the author of the novella, The Parade Goes on Without You (NOLAFugees Press, 2008). You may find other stories of hers featured in Eye Rhyme, Rio Grande Review, New Orleans Review, Monday Nights: Stories from the Creative Writing Workshop at the University of New Orleans, and most recently in Gravel Magazine. She lives in New Orleans.