Ceasefire

By Rizwan Akhtar

The spaghetti sat simmering indifferently 
oil and red chili mangled the threaded mass
an Odor raked the air 
wind almost peppery made nostrils quiver,

He stirred it as if turning on
she withdrew, nose chaffing 
like anchenes grown on strawberries, 
garlic scorched in the oil
paprika crackled like twigs on fire.

“Too much!” she said,
voice sharp as a fresh spice 
slurping through a layer of smoke,
He smirked, a burp spoiled 
the moment anchored on aroma, 

Between them, the kitchen battled,
an arena of essence,
pods of green chilies went off tangent,
an incensed skirmish,  

and then she placed it:
a salver of Lebanese mana’eesh,
its sparking crust, seasoned with thyme and sumac,
olives oozing into the dough like desires immersing,
the air now loaded with a mineral history
fiery spaghetti storm withdrew slowly

He smelled it,
salted veil lifted like vapours on coastal life,
a brackish seduction, 
a balm to the tongues wilted by arguments,

They plunged in it, as if snuggling
mingled whiffs of sesame and thyme,
the quarrel now flaccid, 
heat and salt yoked 
a truce made of conflagration.

Rizwan Akhtar  has published poetry in prestigious international journals and anthologies; he was part of a poetry workshop and class conducted by the Nobel laureate from Saint Lucia, Derek Walcott, at the University of Essex in 2009. His debut collection of poems, Lahore I Am Coming (2017), was published by Punjab University Press. Lately, he has started writing and publishing short fiction.