And this is a small poem called "Love Like Salt."
The idea came to me from a folklore motif
in which a father comes back from a journey
and brings back one gift.
But he has three daughters, so he asked them to tell him
how much they love him.
And the one who loves him the most
is going to get the gift that he brought back.
And the oldest two daughters name
all sorts of precious objects to compare their love to.
And the youngest daughter says she loves him
like salt, which is not appreciated by him at all.
"It lies in our hands in crystals too intricate
to decipher.
It goes into the skillet without being given a thought.
It spills on the floor so fine we step all over it.
We carry a pinch behind each eyeball.
It breaks out on our foreheads.
We store it inside our bodies in secret wineskins.
At supper, we pass it around the table,
talking of holidays by the sea."