A spice, a pepper, a condiment, a companion, I go by many names. 

Accompanying me, coming through lips during my travels through time. Over lands, seas, on the backs of horses, boats, goats, people. Making stops in bazaars, markets, souks, brought by traders, alongside empires, finding many a home, stoves, meals, meeting many who would me take for their own.

Defining their dishes, kitchens, writing the stories of their cuisines through me. As if I had always been here. 

My piquancy, though, recalling a time of moon, memory, and muchness. Of searing. Under the jaguar sun.

Reminding their tongues this berry-fruit can never be tamed. 

…

Jeremy Fernando reads, writes, and makes things.