Alphabet Soup

by Georgia Sampson

I spell your name with alphabet

Soup

The letters on my tongue feel like

You again,

Feel like how it felt

To hear you say my name

I swear I hear you saying

across the counter, saying

Something about the words I 

Arrange to make you smile. All

Of this floats to the surface of my mouth

I spit into the sink.

I form your 4 letters

In my mouth to bring you back,

Spelling you out between sips of

Boiling broth;

My tongue unfolding

on that moment. 

I spend my days burning pots and pans,

To see you in the vapor that

Dissipates on the walls of my kitchen. 

I write out “I miss you”

On my stove and, through heat,

I can feel you again.

I fear that I fill you too much.

Excess spilling on the counter and--

You will read out to me:

you’re too much, you’re too mu--

All the sweet things you

Said while you were

Slurping me 

Turn sour in my mind.

I spend my week vomiting your name

Into my pillow through

Heaves of heartbreak that

You don’t feel.

Poison only works one way.

I can’t say this out loud

I play with my food until

You think of me.