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Monday, May 14, 2012

my kalamata olive

There is one thing, it is my smallness, my mediterranean side. When I'm marinating through a rounded doorway, on the countertop of an adobe kitchen. When I'm slippery and hard to hold. It is my potency that catches people off guard, when they thought I was just another ingredient. I'm abrasive. Vast majorities of people will never meet me or know me, that doesn't make my attitude any more or less sour. It's my savory, bitter, daring punch that you will love or hate. I'll give you asthetics, and color. I'll give you flavor, more than you bargained. You'll spit me out, because you are oblivious that I grew in the prettiest garden in the Middle East. You are oblivious to my kalamata olive.

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