
Tell Me by Evita Arakelian
Tell Me
Evita Arakelian
Tell me of a flavour I have forgotten,
of a song I may have heard a stranger
hum to her child in some store, some day.
Tell me a story I know but end it differently or stop
right in the middle and say: ‘more
for later.’ Tell me about the bakery
that will open near our home, on the eighth
street. Remind me of what it was you said when I left my seat
to have a cry in the theatre powder-room—
(I didn’t want Little Nell to die). Tell me
of all the silly things I do sometimes.
Tell me a truth that tastes like chocolate,
a lie I can save for April Fool's day.
Tell me…
The skinny
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