Mustard bastard

I can’t tell why
but I love yellow
I can’t really know
Is this taste mellow
if you plant it,
it will surely grow
is this taste bitter
or is it just the snow?
he talks about my body
to inhabit it,
have a fit
capture it
matter it
batter hit
imagine it.
He likes my mustard,
Bon Appetit.

Rape, (Brassica napus) is a plant of the mustard family (Brassicaceae), grown for its seeds, which yield canola, or rapeseed, oil. Does it mean that if someone in the darkness of a neighborhood park is going to jump on me from the bushes, I must convey? Interestingly, each word has its definition and it is perceived immediately through one’s imagination as an extreme. Rape, by its definition, is extreme. It is the act of ripping a woman’s clothes as well as her body. Everything else is a regular part of my life. Isn’t it?

My fingers in your hair, he said.

My hair was tied up in a high ponytail so that it would not fall into miniature portions of so-called canapes. I would cut the bread into slightly larger croutons. I would cover a slice of bread very precisely with yellow, freshly produced mustard. The knife I used was the same one used for butter with a carved brand on the bottom of the handle.

He said: I would like to tie your hands up around the radiator and feed you. I will grab your hair and pull it until you start crying and calling your mother. I will spread it all over your body.

My favorite color has always been yellow. My grandmother bought me a yellowish backpack for the first day of school. She said that I look like the sun and that the whole world rotates around me.
He would put my yellow backpack on the floor and take my clothes to explore the sun’s rays. My skin would cower while my 13 old body was shivering. When he finished splashing mustard over my belly I would cry from the pain, but he would take me in his lap calling me his little sun. The pain would pass soon.

Bon Appetit! My mother prefers eating hot dogs without mustard while I eat them with.