Courgette

In the Turkish supermarket, you search through baby peaches and it makes me feel closer to you.
British people don’t pick their fruit and vegetables like this.
And I am hoping I am just as scrutinised by you as a courgette, just as carefully selected.
In my kitchen you add rich olive oil to aubergines and lemon and onion and it hits the pan with a gentle sizzle.
My Nene brought that oil back from Cyprus.
I can tell this is good, you say, tilting the bottle.
And I want you to take me in your gentle hands and peel my clothes off like you slid skin off the aubergine so smoothly with a knife. None of this vegetable peeler nonsense.
And when you kiss me I want the taste of our homelands to leak from between the gaps in our teeth like pomegranate juice.

Yas Necati (they/them) is a writer and performance poet who explores queer and trans identity, migrant identity, mental health, recovery, community and resistance. When they are not immersed in poetry, they campaign for queer rights, run workshops on self care, and perform as their drag act alter-ego, Turkish pop star Tarkan.