My Foreign Lover, A Poem

Words by
Louisa Miranda
| April 6, 2015

Louisa Miranda is a poet from northern NSW. She has a thing for the sultry, raw, and earthy scent of the curry tree (Murraya koenigii). So much so, in fact, she has written a poem documenting her obsession. This is it:

My sister-in-love first introduced us,
you were so fresh, just like a foreign lover,
I couldn’t help but blush at your crush.
And before I knew it
your strange familiar scent
sent sense south (north of here)
and since then
it’s only your flavour I favour and
I find myself wishing to sneak
out into the night for midnight trysts
with you in community gardens
for where else might I find you, fresh?
and though I know unsavoury types there exist,
naught now could keep me from
savouring you, your
scents of
adventure,
of wet skin dry,
of someone else’s childhood,
of unfamiliar homes,
of entire elsewheres,
of edible bodies,
I smell you in my gums.
I don’t care about the indecency of this affair,
even when my husband catches on and scenting
my absence of sense
rather than be incensed
had sense enough to invite you in
(to the garden for now, but give him time)
and so the scent of you
wafts in through my bedroom window and I
imagine love made atop a crush of you
such that I find I’m
forever and madly
currying your flavour.

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