If I were to write one word
on a pristine, white sheet of paper,
and hand it to you - folded neatly
like the memory of your first kiss -
on a Sunday afternoon in your kitchen,
let's say... five years from now
(just to play at precision ),
by the window or at the sink,
what would you want it to be,
that one word, and in what color ink?
The reason I ask is I know a lot of words,
but not all, and not all the important ones.
And also, some shades of red - should that be your choice -
can only be had from gently roasting and then crushing to a fine powder
the soft shells of a certain kind of langoustine
only to be found off the coast of Norway,
and certain shades of blue only from a mixture of moon rocks
and the saliva of a decendant of the Iban people of northern Borneo.
I'm just trying to be prepared, you see,
for when you'll need me to write you one word.