All in by Tara Labovich

by Tara Labovich



i am looking for answers. i think this is what i have always been looking for.
a little story, or punctuation, to end the impossible sentence.

it was near a year ago now, i sat with my dearest friend in mismatched chairs.
in the nook of those wide mountains, i said, this is the best carrot i have ever eaten.

it was winter, and they had dressed the little stalks like royalty. oil. salt. a little honey for glaze.
that morning, a stranger had held my hand as we walked the steep incline.

she did not let go. even when sweat beaded between us.
it was the first time i had been touched like that in two months.

it is so simple what reminds us of loving again.
no—what wakes the love in us again. like love is a thing that can sleep.

like love can be stirred. with oil. salt. a little honey for glaze.
i told my friend of the carrots, and the long walk through high snow, and the stranger.

they told me, carrots taste the best after a hard frost.
it’s the cold that shocks starch into sugar. it’s a jolt that turns the everyday into dessert.


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Tara Labovich (they/them) is a lecturer of English and Creative Writing at Iowa State University. Their multi-genre creative work explores questions of queerness, survivorship, and multicultural upbringing. Their writing is nominated for Best of the Net, and can be found in journals such as Salt Hill and the Citron Review.