Ode to the Smell of Onion

Because I Said So because i said so

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Written by Renee Beauregard Lute

On my hands;
it is heaviest
the day after
I’ve cut
these skin-struck
pilgrims, nude
in my home,
on my table,
in the pores
of my hands.

Low and swollen
like the blindfish,
the smell
a partner,
beneath fingernails,
a ghost,
the moon,
a secret.
It is what
we, who prepare
the food,
have in common.
These secrets
our fingernails, this
smell of onion.

The other foods
are temporary, the
unraveled squash,
pumpkins that have
been emptied. They
are consumed. They
The onion, so
like the body,
is heavy with


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Because I Said So

'Because I Said So' is a 200 words or less short piece related to a theme. To submit your own 'BISS', click on "submit a story" from the website.

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