I exfoliate with sea salt
I moisturise in garlic
I rub raw pink chicken
smooth as a baby
and wet.
So I can smell
deep in my skin
all those meals that I’ve cooked.
Ginger mixed with onions
butter and cauliflower.
And sometimes
if the time is right
just inside my wrist
is salmon.
I’m proudest though of my left thumb
hard as a nut with its own grand canyon.
Here years of bluntly cutting cucumber have
given me my war wound
my armour plated thumb.
You my hands aren’t as soft as some
nor is your skin a pearly peach.
But with you in my kitchen
I can hold the whole world
and I can slice red pepper
at the speed
of light.