It was two days
before my 27th birthday
when I had my
first madeleine.
I had gulleted
half before I realised
what it was; a
sponge-shaped symbol
that I had yet
to eat, yet had now ate.
I suppose I do
not know if it was
a good or bad
madeleine – apologies
to my host – but
it deserved more
attention than I
gave it and better
antecedents than
those multi-pack
lunchbox fillers
that fluff recalled,
which were all I
could recall, are all
I can now
recall. The mouth stuffed.
The contracted
throat, narrowing like years
and flavours
until I am not so sure
I did not – never?
– ate this cake before.
Ever! Not sure
we are not eating always
the same cake –
iced again and re-trayed,
candles just
traces of wax in hollow party hats.
Any old conch
held so to your ear makes
a sound near
enough like the sea. Near
enough. Shush.
Eat up! My first madeleine?
It was two days
before my 27th birthday.
Emily Hasler's collection Natural Histories is published by Salt.
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