Em Portugal 

I become a blue fish, 
That wears quite a lot of white
Swimming my way through vinho verde
Laying flat on tasty toast

On nigiri, I am flame torched and lightly salted
A tender funeral,
I return to the sea 

I become red and gold, 
Adorning the necks of two girlfriends that might pass me on to their daughters 

They enjoy:
Deliberate scoops of sea bass tartare, 
A window to a white casinha lined in blue, 
Lunches, eye level with the ocean 
More pastel de nata than anyone needs

But Manteigaria is so, so rich 
As is the silence required for Fado on Pink Street

In Ericeira, one of the girlfriends blows kisses to the breeze
She thinks its a perfect little town 
As free birds crowd her view of a setting sun
And she captures a photo of her husband walking by, 
Hands tied behind his back as if all of his prayers have been answered

There, she attends a wedding filled with flowers she’s never seen 

She marvels at a sunflower’s gorgeous cousin - the autumn-colored, Black-eyed Susan 
And some kind of pink flower reminiscent of dragonfruit 
Reminders of God’s creativity 
Reminders that as a witness to a new marriage she is blessed 

She has her fill of:
Cod - grilled, frittered, croquetted 
Octopus - hot dogged, boiled, salad
Port wine & tonic
Port wine & tonic
Port wine & tonic

Content,
As if she has accomplished something big in the world 

In a local shop, she sees Hafiz’s words, 
“Now is the time to know that everything you do is sacred”  

She climbed the steps from Bairro Alto to Príncipe Real 
She ate sweet wedding cake after midnight 
She put her feet in buttery, leather sandals for the hell of it
Maybe she’ll buy a pair

Em Portugal
That woman girl
Became one
With the sardine